Avara POV
My breaths are ever-light, the unbearable heft of my body moored to the open seat, yet I struggle to meet the eyes of the man standing in front of her—Botan, who looms over me like a predator. He takes his time, circling her like a lion stalking its prey, the soft thuds of his boots echoing against the concrete floors. His eyes, dark and intent, tracing every line of my face, studying the slight rise and fall of my chest. The tension crackling in the air, there is a simmering heat in his gaze, something that makes my pulse quicken against my will.
"You're—you're not going to hurt me."
His eyes flick up. "And why is that?" The silver from his rings glint with every idle shift of his hands.
"Because… because…"
