Lyra's POV
I couldn't shake his words.
"Adrian's not done with you, Eva. He'll come for you. And when he does… it won't end well."
I hated that I was letting Adrian get to me, but more than that—I hated how much space Leo was taking up in my thoughts.
He wasn't just a problem. He was a complication I couldn't afford.
Every time I was near him, my body betrayed me, reacting in ways I couldn't control. The heat of his gaze lingered long after he walked away, and the memory of his touch had a way of curling around my mind, refusing to let go. I didn't want to be pulled into whatever dark orbit surrounded Leo Weston.
But there was no denying it. I was already in.
I let out a frustrated sigh and turned away from the mirror. I wasn't some naive girl. Leo didn't care about me beyond what I could offer him. I was here for Mia. That was it. And I had to remind myself of that, no matter how my body reacted whenever he got too close.
I was about to leave my room when the door creaked open behind me. I froze, knowing who it was before I even turned around.
"Leo," I said, my heart immediately racing. I hated that just his presence had this effect on me. "What are you doing here?"
He stepped into the room, his dark eyes fixed on me, an intensity there that made it impossible to breathe. "We need to talk."
I swallowed, feeling the shift in the air. He wasn't in the mood for games tonight. I could see it in the hard line of his jaw, the way his hands clenched briefly before he took another step closer.
"I don't need more warnings," I said, trying to sound stronger than I felt. "I already know Adrian's back."
His gaze sharpened. "This isn't just about Adrian. You're caught between something bigger than you realize, Lyra."
He was standing so close now that I could feel the heat radiating off him. My heart pounded in my chest, but I stood my ground. I wasn't going to let him intimidate me, even if everything about him made me feel like I was walking a tightrope over a chasm.
"I didn't ask to be caught between anything," I shot back, my voice lower now, more dangerous. "I just want to do my job. Take care of Mira. That's all."
Leo let out a low, humorless laugh, his lips curling into a smirk that made my pulse race. "You really think that's possible now? You think you can just stand on the sidelines, untouched?"
I looked up at him, defiance boiling under my skin. " I'm not part of your… whatever this is."
He stepped closer, his breath hot against my skin as he spoke. "You're already part of it, whether you like it or not." His voice was like gravel, rough and dark. "You've been part of it from the moment you walked into my house."
I shivered as his words washed over me, but I refused to let him see how much he was getting to me. "You can't control me."
"Maybe not," he murmured, leaning down until his lips were just inches from my ear, his hand brushing lightly against my arm. "But you're in my world now. And in my world, Lyra, I protect what's mine."
His words sent a surge of heat through my body, and I hated how much I responded to him. I should have stepped back, created distance, but instead, I found myself frozen in place, trapped by the intensity of his presence. The air between us was electric, charged with something I didn't want to admit to myself.
"I don't need your protection," I whispered, my voice wavering.
Leo's hand slid up my arm, his touch gentle but commanding. "You might not think you do. But you don't know what Adrian's is capable of. You don't know what's coming."
I looked up at him, my breath hitching. "What is this about, Leo? Why are you so involved in my life now?"
His dark eyes flashed, something dangerous flickering behind them. "Because Adrian wants you," he said, his voice low and deadly. "And I'm not going to let him have you."
The intensity in his gaze, the possessiveness in his voice—it scared me. But what scared me more was how much I wanted him to mean it.
"You don't own me," I said, my voice barely a whisper.
His hand moved to my waist, pulling me closer, until my body was flush against his. His breath was hot against my neck, and I could feel the tension coiling between us, ready to snap. "Not yet," he murmured, his lips ghosting over my skin, sending a shiver down my spine. "But you will be."
I pushed against his chest, trying to create space, but he didn't let go. Instead, he tightened his grip, his fingers digging into my waist, holding me there, forcing me to face the reality of what was happening between us.
"You think you can resist this?" he asked, his voice rough and raw. "You think you can walk away from me?"
I looked up at him, my heart racing, my breath coming in short, shallow gasps. I wanted to tell him yes, that I could resist, that I could walk away. But the truth was, I wasn't sure anymore. The way he looked at me, the way he touched me—it was intoxicating, overwhelming. And I hated that I wanted more of it.
"This is a mistake," I whispered, my voice shaking.
"Maybe," he said, his lips brushing against my jaw, his breath warm on my skin. "But it's one you're already making."
Before I could respond, his mouth was on mine, claiming me with a heat and intensity that stole my breath. I should have pulled away, should have stopped him. But instead, I found myself melting into him, my hands clutching at his shirt, desperate for something to hold onto as the world spun out of control.
When he finally pulled back, his eyes were darker, filled with a dangerous kind of desire. "You belong to me now," he whispered, his voice rough and full of promise.
And for the first time, I wasn't sure I wanted to fight it.