SERAPHINA’S POV
Ethan’s grip wasn’t rough, but it was firm, unyielding.
Rain streaked down his face, making his expression hard to read. For once, though, there was something softer in his eyes—hesitation, maybe even regret.
“I’ll drive you home,” he said simply.
The offer stunned me more than my mother’s slap, more than Celeste’s accusation. For a moment, I just stared at him, blinking water from my lashes.
Something twisted in my chest. Old wounds and fresh ones colliding. I wanted to tell him to let go, to leave me in the rain, to let me dissolve until there was nothing left.
I yanked my arm back. “No, thank you.” My voice came out sharper than I meant, but I didn’t soften it.
“If you’re planning another lecture, Ethan, don’t bother. I’m not in the mood. And if you try anyway, well—” I gave him a look that was equal parts warning and promise, “—I can fight back now.”
