MAILAH FELT THE HEAT in Grayson's gaze, a physical pressure that made her heart hammer against her ribs. He had given her a choice: walk away and keep her secrets, or stay and reveal the shadows in her heart.
The door to the manor was only thirty feet away. Behind it lay the safety of her room. But as she looked at Grayson—this version of him that was all sharp edges and ancient pride—she realized that walking away was no longer an option. She was already caught in his orbit.
"I'm staying," she whispered.
Grayson didn't move, but the tension in his shoulders seemed to ease by a fraction of a millimeter. "Then speak, little human. What is it that makes your pulse race like a trapped thing when I come near?"
