Cruden stepped forward.
Roselia scrambled back.
For every step that Cruden took, she took two. He outwalked her with his long inhumane legs. His piercing blue eyes slid right into her heart. Solemn. Soulless. She bumped against the wall and he smiled. She shivered. His sharp features pinned her in place. He slammed his hand beside her head, leaning down.
"Hungry?" Cruden murmured, raising the takeout bags dangling in his fingers.
Roselia trembled. She was starving, actually. But the little angel on her shoulder told her the outcome if she nodded her head. She'd be proving him right. She had broken his rule—the one made to keep her safe.
"I ordered the takeout," Noah called out from behind them, his hands planted on his hips. "D-don't blame it on Roselia. I ordered it for the four of us."
Cruden tilted his head. His pupils darkened into sterling steel. Sharp as a blade. Swift was his cut. "Is my wife going to lie to me too?"
