Catherine looked at him.
His gaze kept drifting... betraying him... down to her lips, lingering there as though he meant to devour her whole. His own lips were parted, breath uneven, restraint visibly fraying at the edges.
Breathing through her nose wasn't enough.
Her chest rose sharply as she opened her mouth and dragged in a greedy breath of air. The sound was soft, but it echoed between them like a confession.
His eyes snapped back to hers.
Slowly, deliberately, his grip loosened around her wrists.
She felt wrong. That much was undeniable.
But scared?
No.
Not of this.
She was afraid of what he could mean for her family... for the people she loved and would burn the world to protect.
But this… this heat curling low in her body wasn't fear. It was startling. Disorienting. And far too honest.
Warmth spread through her, deep and consuming, comfortable and dangerous warmth. And he was burning.
