The silence in Aec's office felt heavier than the one in that elevator days ago.
Aec stood by his desk, sharp suit and sharper eyes fixed on me. His presence alone could command a room; even the shadows seemed to bend around him. But right now, those eyes that once felt magnetic burned with something else, frustration.
"Talk to me, Sharon," he said, his voice deep and steady, but I could hear the storm beneath. "I'm not asking twice."
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to hold his gaze. My throat felt dry. "There's nothing to talk about, sire."
He moved closer, one step, then another. Each click of his shoes against the polished floor echoed in my skull. "Don't play smart with me."
"I'm not."
"You think I can't see it? Something's wrong. You're hiding something."
His tone dropped an octave, almost a growl. I felt it vibrate through me, and I hated that it affected me that way that my pulse quickened, that I could feel his energy pulling at me even when I wanted to run from it.
