MELISSA’S POV

Joem’s eyes narrowed further, and he leaned down, close enough that I caught the musk of sweat and the sour tang of stew. “We have met before,” he said again, his voice sounded very certain

My pulse hammered. "I… I don’t think so,” I managed, though my voice came out thinner than I wanted it to.

He studied me for a long time, his gaze on me was unwavering and uncomfortable. Then, to my surprise, the tension drained from his features. His lips curled into a humorless smile, the kind that promised he would be cruel rather than kind.

“It doesn’t matter,” he finally said, flicking at the...