Malric's Pov

The dining table was unusually quiet - just the soft clinking of utensils, the muffled scrape of plates. But beneath the silence, my head was chaos.

It's been two days since... that night.

Two days since I had Delilah trembling beneath my touch, gasping my name like she belonged to me. And fuck, even now... I could still smell her. That sweet, wet heat clinging to my senses, teasing me like a curse.

I should never have touched her.

I don't want anyone. I've never wanted anyone. People want me,  they always have. I don't chase. I don't bend. But Delilah...

She's different. She's trouble wrapped in soft...