The accusation hung in the air, so profoundly absurd that it short-circuited every synapse in Cassian's brain.
Declan, who had been poised for a tactical retreat towards the exit, looked like he was physically restraining himself from performing a full-body, soul-crushing face-palm.
The other diners, a sea of unsuspecting civilians, were trying their best to pretend they weren't staring. They were witnessing a live performance of a young couple's public negotiation for what sounded suspiciously like a kinky, cannibalistic ritual.
Cassian could feel their collective gaze like a physical pressure, a palpable wave of judgment that painted them as the restaurant's resident pervert couple, the kind who would probably start reenacting scenes from a nature documentary if left unchecked.
He stared at Everly, his mind a chaotic battlefield between his ingrained sense of duty and the sheer, unadulterated madness of her request.
