Cassius and Carmela were frozen, caught in a blend of guilt and dread.
There were no excuses that could possibly bridge the chasm of what had just happened.
And seeing Joy like this—her eyes bloodshot, her body radiating a holy fury so intense it seemed to warp the air—they knew they had crossed a line from which there might be no return.
This wasn't irritation or disapproval; this was a foundational violation.
Even in their compromised states—their survival instincts screamed.
Carmela's hands came up, not in a seductive gesture but in a guarded stance, her vampire reflexes ready.
Cassius eased back onto the balls of his feet, his playful demeanor gone, replaced by the focused readiness of a seasoned fighter.
They braced for the violent explosion they were certain would follow.
But it didn't come.
Joy simply...stared. Her vengeful glare bored into them, a silent promise of pain held in check by sheer, monumental willpower.
The seconds stretched, thick with tension.
