Diara's body was tense as she re-entered the room, her heart pounding in her chest as the familiar suffocating presence of Kellan enveloped her.
She had learned to expect the worst whenever she was alone with him, and her senses were on high alert as she noticed something unusual.
On the table before her was a plate of food—a well-cooked meal that sent the most intoxicating aroma wafting through the room.
The savory scent of nice cook steak, warm baked bread, and sautéed vegetables teased her senses, making her stomach tighten painfully with hunger.
She hadn't eaten all day, too caught up in the whirlwind of fear, anxiety, and exhaustion.
Kellan sat across the table, his cold, unblinking eyes locked onto her. But this time, there was something different about his gaze. It wasn't the usual sneer of disgust or anger that she was used to seeing from him.
