We stood there, locked in silence.
The night wrapped around us, cold air whispering through the trees while the moon hung low above, casting silver light across Devon's face. Shadows cut sharply along the lines of his jaw and collarbone, making him look almost unreal standing there in the darkness.
His crimson eyes burned into mine. Unreadable, dangerous, beautiful.
As usual, he had no shirt on, and despite everything he had done, despite the anger working through my chest, I had to make a deliberate choice to keep my eyes level. Not to look at the hard planes of his body, at the scars I still didn't know the histories of.
Devon slipped his hands into his pockets, appearing casual and unbothered except for his shoulders, which were rigid with tension he hadn't quite managed to hide.
"What are you doing outside your room at this hour, Kira?"
His voice was calm, but I could hear how tense he was.
"I've been trying to reach you," I said quietly.
