As soon as the door to our room closed behind us, the tension in the air was suffocating. I could still feel the echo of the slap Seraphine had delivered to Ambrose reverberating through the hall, through my chest, through everything.
A part of me was reeling from the scene, from the way she'd defended me so fiercely. And yet, I could see the fire still burning in her, like she hadn't finished with him, like she wanted to storm right back out there and do something worse.
Her movements were sharp as she paced the room, not saying a word, her hands clenched at her sides.
The angry energy coming off her in waves made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. She looked like a storm ready to crash into anything in its path. And that storm was named Ambrose.
I stood there, unsure of what to do for a moment. I wanted to say something, to break the silence, but nothing felt right.
