[Leif's Office—Continuation—Leif's POV]
"STEP AWAY FROM MY FIANCÉ!"
The words cracked through the air like thunder—and I swear, the temperature in the room dropped ten degrees.
I turned slowly. And there he was.
Alvar. My very calm, totally not jealous, definitely rational fiancé—standing in the doorway like an avenging god with murder in his eyes. His aura flared so violently that even the shadows were trying to evacuate.
Caelum, still hugging me, went stiff as a statue. "…Ah," he whispered, voice slightly trembling, "I think your fiancé wants to kill me."
"Wants to?" I said, deadpan. "He's about five seconds away from doing it."
Alvar's eyes narrowed. "Five seconds is generous."
Oh. Wonderful. We've hit the death threat phase.
"Alvar," I said carefully, prying at Caelum's arms like one peels gum off their shoe, "this is not what it looks like."
