Alicia's fingers grazed the soft fabric of her sling bag—the same one she had left earlier on the coffee table. She pulled it onto her lap, clutching it like it might anchor her nerves. She shifted subtly on the crescent sofa, trying to appear calm, composed… as if her heart wasn't racing from the secret phone call, from the heat Adrien had left in her bloodstream, or from the sharp edge of fear that laced the air now.
By the hearth, Adrien stood at last.
He tossed in the final log with deliberate ease, the fire crackling to life behind him. As he straightened, his full height seemed to cast a shadow over the room itself, and when his eyes met hers, the weight of his gaze pressed down hard.
"You look nervous, Elfie."
His voice was quiet. Too quiet.
Silken and smooth, but beneath it was something dangerous. Something that curled like a dagger cloaked in velvet.
"Anything I should know?"
