Rose's hand hovered over the doorknob, her breathing unsteady. Sylus stood inches away, his broad frame towering over her, his dark eyes scanning her face for any crack in her resolve.
"You're avoiding me," he murmured, his voice low and dangerous.
"I'm busy," Rose shot back, trying to keep her tone steady. "Unlike some people, I have deadlines."
His lips quirked into a half-smile, but there was no humor in it. "Busy? Or scared, kitten?"
Her fingers tightened around the key. "Of what, Sylus?"
"Of what you feel when you're around me," he said, stepping closer. His scent—something dark and intoxicating—wrapped around her. "Because I know exactly what I feel when I'm around you."
Rose's pulse quickened, but she refused to let him win this game. "And what's that?"
He leaned in, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered, "Possessive."
Her breath hitched, but before she could respond, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway. Both of them turned as Lucas Hart appeared, his hands shoved casually into his pockets.
"Am I interrupting?" Lucas asked, his emerald eyes gleaming with amusement.
Sylus straightened, his expression hardening instantly. "What are you doing here, Hart?"
Lucas shrugged, his gaze sliding to Rose. "I could ask you the same thing. But since you're here... maybe I should let Miss Kylie decide who stays."
Rose blinked, caught between the two men, their tension crackling like a live wire. "This isn't a competition," she said firmly, pushing the door open and stepping inside. She turned to face them both, her voice calm but final. "Goodnight, gentlemen."
Before Sylus could argue, she closed the door. But as she leaned against it, her heart pounding, she knew this wasn't the end.
---
The next morning, Rose found an envelope slipped under her door. Inside was a single note:
"Careful, kitten. Not everyone is who they seem to be."
It was unsigned, but the handwriting was familiar—Sylus's sharp, angular script. Or was it?
---