Kyllian felt like punching something.
He didn't say a word. Didn't even glance at the door again. Instead, he yanked at his collar, pulled his shirt down like it could somehow erase the shame and lust and fury written all over his skin. He turned and walked away, his back straight but his insides coiled.
He had lost control. It was a reminder that he wasn't the calm, noble protector he claimed to be. He'd let himself be ruled by need.
But he wouldn't give Damien the satisfaction of seeing guilt in his eyes. Pride, stupid and burning, kept his head high even as his heart sunk into his boots.
Behind him, the tension didn't fully ease. Magnus sighed and looked at Damien.
"What is going on?"
Damien didn't respond right away. Instead, he turned to Queen Ravena, his gaze softer now, tinged with urgency and uncharacteristic vulnerability. "She needs you," he said.
