BRYNN
Brynn's breath caught as he loomed over her, his dark eyes burning with anger. She could feel the tension radiating off his body, could practically taste his rage in the air between them.
This was the first time she'd seen him truly angry. Not cold, not controlled, not wearing that mask of deadly calm he usually maintained.
This was pure fury.
It should have terrified her.
Instead, it sent heat racing through her veins like wildfire.
"Don't you dare try to intimidate me after what you just?—"
"Intimidate you?" He let out a harsh laugh, but there was no humor in it. His face was inches from hers now, close enough that she could see the silver flecks in his dark eyes. "Thief, if I wanted to intimidate you, you'd know it."
The endearment-that-wasn't sent a shiver down her spine. He hadn't called her that in days—not since their fight, not since she'd walked out. Hearing it now, rough with emotion and possession, made her chest tighten.
Don't react. Don't give him the satisfaction.
Her jaw set defiantly even as her heart was hammering against her ribs.
"Then what DO you want, Reaper?"
She spat his title at him, the same way he'd used "thief”. A reminder of what they were supposed to be to each other. Lord and tribute. Death Lord and mortal. Nothing more.
His gaze dropped to her lips for just a heartbeat before snapping back to her eyes. Hunger flashed in their depths.
"What do I want?" he repeated, his voice rough. "I want to know why you let them touch you."
"Touch me?" She blinked, then laughed—a sharp, cutting sound. "They were dancing with me. It's what people do at gatherings. Perhaps you've forgotten, given how long you've spent brooding in corners."
His jaw tightened. "That warrior had his hands on your bare skin."
"On my waist. During a waltz." She tilted her chin up, meeting his glare with one of her own. "Should I have made him hover away like your terrified courtiers do with you?"
He went very still. "Caelum was calling you 'my dear.'"
"Caelum was being polite. A concept you might try sometime."
"And Vex—" His voice dropped to a growl. "You danced with Vex. After what he did."
That landed. She felt her composure slip for just a moment before she caught it.
"I handled Vex just fine. I didn't need you swooping in to?—"
"You shouldn't have had to handle him at all!" His palm slammed against the wall beside her head, making her flinch. "He touched you. He cornered you in his own court and put his hands on you, and tonight you let him hold you like nothing happened?—"
"Because I refuse to let him think he has any power over me!" Her voice rose to match his. "Because, unlike some people, I don't need to be protected from every perceived threat!"
"This isn't about protection!"
"Then what IS it about, Dante?" She shoved at his chest, but he didn't budge. Solid as stone, caging her against the wall. "Because it looks like you're angry that I dared to have a good time without your permission!"
His shadows surged across the floor, climbing her ankles, her calves. She kicked at them instinctively, but they just wound tighter.
"Tell your shadows to back off."
"No."
