With a roar, the panther switched from house cat to slaughtering storm.
The guards leapt back.
The door slammed closed.
And the moment it shut, Lucien swooped to his full height, stalked across the room, and flicked the lock. Planting one palm against the wood, he bowed his head for a moment as if he wasn’t as strong as he looked. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sucked in a breath, and dropped his arm with a heavy exhale.
Whisper nudged his hip.
Lucien petted him distractedly as both man and beast turned to face me.
My heart skipped a beat.
Shirtless, his shredded abdominals flexed every time he breathed. The thick bandage over the dagger wound offered a morbid symmetry to the no-longer-operational piece of metal over his heart. And the bandages around his wrists were a damn sight better than the silver cuffs that used to bleed him every three days.
“You put on that little show to make them believe you won’t be up for any escaping tonight, didn’t you? You want them to lower their guard so you can sneak out easily.”
He just stood there—chest rising and falling with slow, steady breaths, his eyes diving into mine.
My knees threatened to buckle beneath the weight of his stare.
The room tightened, air sparked, and the longer we stared at each other, the more I tripped into him.
Into all those feelings from before.
Into all that heat and tension and—
He pushed off from the door.
He came toward me, one careful step at a time.
I sucked in a breath at how breathtakingly gorgeous he was but he was also dangerous and scary and no longer restrained.
Which was a horrifying, terrifying thing.
“W-What are you doing?” My breath caught somewhere in my throat.
He didn’t stop until he was close enough to bow from his tall height and press his forehead to mine.
I froze as stinging, sizzling connection erupted between us. He sucked in a breath as he cupped my cheek, walking me backward as if he fought both good and bad, evil and innocent.
I bit my bottom lip as my spine hit the wall. “Shouldn’t we be plotting our escape...”
“Probably,” he purred. “But don’t worry. I have a plan.”
“A plan?”
“I just needed you to get me out of Cinderkeep. I’ll handle the rest.”
“You’llhandleit?” My eyes popped wide. “How?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“But—”
“Thank you for being willing to kill me.” His nose brushed mine as his voice barely rose above a roughened whisper. “And thank you for doing such a bad job at it that I’m still alive.”
I coughed a little laugh, not expecting his thanks or for him to crack a joke.
