Verity’s POV

I kept my eyes on my plate, though I had already eaten my fill. My fingers toyed with the edge of the napkin in my lap, twisting the fabric over and over.

Cassian didn’t move, didn’t speak. The only sound was the faint scrape of his fork as he finished the last of his meal with deliberate slowness.

He was either letting the tension build on purpose or trying to talk for the tension to settle.

I wanted to flee, but his command still held me down.

Sit down.

I ...