Oh, who was this man calling "this one"?
That was the only thing going through Isabella's head as she stared Zyran down like he was a walking violation of common sense.
This one?
This one?!
Was she a loaf of bread now? A furniture piece? An ancient artifact?
Zyran's smirk grew deeper, obviously satisfied with himself, while Cyrus tensed beside her, visibly fighting the urge to commit murder with his tail.
Isabella's eye twitched. Just once. But it was dangerous.
She took a step forward, squaring up to Zyran despite the fact that he was built like the villain in a forbidden romance novel and she barely reached his collarbone.
"I dare you to say it again," she snapped, hands on her hips, eyebrows raised like she'd been personally insulted by the universe.
And Zyran?
Oh, that absolute menace just leaned down until his lips were barely a breath away from hers, red eyes glowing like embers in the dark.
