EMILIA’S POV

“Wait—wait!”

My voice was filled with anger and frustration, but he didn’t even slow down. His fingers wrapped around my wrist like iron, dragging me down the corridor. Every step echoed off the stone walls, my bare feet slipping on the smooth floor as I tried to keep up.

“You have to listen to me,” I gasped, pulling at his hand. “Please, just stop—”

He didn’t.

He moved like a predator on the hunt—quick, purposeful, relentless. The scent of earth and rain rolled off him in waves, drowning my senses. His grip was firm but not cruel, yet there was a wildness to it, a feral heat that...