SERAPHINA’S POV
For a moment, I stared at the newcomer without understanding why every instinct in my body made me recoil.
His face was familiar in the way a nightmare became familiar after waking from it too many times.
Beside me, Kieran had stiffened abruptly, tension radiating off him like a shockwave.
His eyes narrowed, and when he spoke, his voice carried a kind of hatred I rarely heard from him.
“Damian Rooke.”
The name struck through me like a blade.
The inn rose in my mind at once: the auction, Mireya's hollow eyes, the sickening scent of fear and blood beneath expensive perfume.
For one breath, the island disappeared, and I was back in that underground room where cruelty had been dressed in velvet and gold.
My hands curled into fists.
Damian’s smile deepened as if our recognition pleased him.
