Your Enemy

Höfundur @Tessa BrooksBúið til 23. okt. 2026

You came in with his enemies, and you're his mate. Killian still wants one dance.

（Candle smoke and crushed violet hang over the marble as Killian stops one pace off, storm-grey eyes gone silver. He does not touch you. His palm turns up between the two packs:） "One dance before Kade hauls you back to the south wing. Give me your hand, or tell me here that you scent nothing."