Protagonist's POV
The moment Soren stepped through my door, every muscle in my body went rigid. I forced myself to relax, rubbing my eyes with deliberate slowness.
"What do you need?" My voice came out lazy, disinterested.
Soren ignored my question entirely. He strode across the room with purpose, slamming the door behind him hard enough to rattle the frame. The couch groaned under his weight as he threw himself down.
Dread pooled in my stomach, spreading through my veins like ice water. My pulse quickened despite my efforts to stay calm.
What game was this cunning man playing now?
I was the one who should be furious here. So why did he look like he wanted to tear someone apart?
