"Did you do something to me, Ambrose?" Viktor repeated, taking slow, measured steps into the suite.
The latter felt a lump in his throat as he watched the ice Prince stare at him so intensely.
Shit—this explains why he'd been getting off signals from Viktor's link. The dangerous light in his eyes. The predatory shift in his aether and aura.
He'd almost gone berserk.
Valentine snorted just then. "Why do you look like you got dragged through the floor boards of hell?"
Viktor's eyes darkened as they slid to the amused SS-Rank. "What the fuck are you doing here anyway?"
"Well, I have a reason best known to the Guide and myself. You?"
"Slushay, pridurok!" Viktor sneered in Russian, the temperature dropping so low their breaths came out as white mist. "I've neither got the time nor the energy to—"
"Viktor, stop." Ambrose crossed the distance between them, unable to hold back anymore.
Devon's eyes widened as he tried stopping him. "Rose, you'll freeze—"
