Alora's breath hitched, her lungs aching for the oxygen that had been denied a moment earlier. Magnus, however, was unyielding, his eyes smoldering with an intensity that was both thrilling and terrifying.
She shifted uneasily, her leg sliding upwards in a subconscious attempt to alleviate the tension that was building within her.
"I was merely jesting, Magnus. Surely, you know that" Alora managed to utter, her voice barely more than a whisper, "Please, release my hands."
Without a moment's hesitation, Magnus relinquished his hold on her hands. Yet, his touch did not entirely leave her. Instead, it migrated to cradle the delicate curve of her neck, a gesture that was both protective and possessive.
