"Your Majesty, I wasn't—"
Landon Mercer's massive body pressed me against the stone wall, his muscled forearm barring across my throat. His face contorted with rage, looming just inches from mine.
"I don't want to hear excuses," he growled, his voice rumbling low in his chest. "What were you doing looking at him that way?"
I swallowed hard, struggling to breathe against the pressure on my throat. His scent—pine, musk, and something dangerously wild—enveloped me completely.
"I wasn't looking at him any particular way," I managed, my voice barely a whisper.
His gray eyes burned, the irises ringed with crimson—a sign his Lycan side was close to the surface. "Don't. Lie. To. Me." Each word was punctuated with increased pressure against my throat.
"Please," I gasped, my fingers clawing uselessly at his arm. "I wasn't—"
