Avyanne's pov

The courtyard was a blur of whispers and wide eyes, but Killian’s hand was firm around my

wrist. He didn’t wait for me to gather my things. He didn’t care about the stares. He pulled me

through the stone archway, each step furious, his jaw tight enough to snap.

“Killian—”

“Not here,” he bit out. His pace was brutal, his grip unyielding. By the time we reached the black

car, my arm ached from the force of it.

He shoved the passenger door open. “Get in.”

I ...