"Plus, he sleeps at the far end of the room, so there's nothing wrong with that," Isabella added quickly, her voice just a bit too high-pitched.
Zyran didn't respond right away.
He just smiled.
The smile of a man who knew far too much. A slow, lazy smirk that said, I know exactly where you sleep, what time you yawn, and how many times you roll over before you pass out. That smile was saying a whole thunderstorm of bad things, and Isabella's instinct screamed at her that he wasn't guessing. He knew.
Her instinct screamed at her—Abort mission. That smile means he knows things. Things no thunderbolt can fix.
"Fine, then I want the room next to yours," Zyran said, voice smooth, like he was asking for a cup of tea instead of preparing to ruin her life.
Isabella rolled her eyes so hard her neck almost snapped. "Of course you do."
Before she could open her mouth to give him the kind of answer he absolutely deserved, Kian cut in. "I already stay in that room."
