Odette's POV
"No."
The word slipped out before I even thought about it. Too fast. Too sharp. The second it left my lips, I knew I'd messed up.
His grip on my wrist tightened like a shackle, and I could feel my pulse hammering against his fingers. My heart was already racing, but now it felt like it was trying to tear itself free from my chest. The air around him shifted — heavier, darker — and though I couldn't see his face, I knew. He was angry.
I could almost hear the low growl vibrating inside him, feel it rolling through the space between us like a storm. My stomach twisted. Every instinct I had screamed to run, but there was nowhere to go.
Then his voice came, close enough that his breath brushed my skin.
"You're a terrible liar, Odette. Do not insult me with pathetic denials. I can smell dishonesty on you as clearly as I smell your blood."
My lips parted but nothing came out. My lashes trembled, my body shaking despite how still I tried to stay.
