TYR

“Tyr.”

The name slid into my sleep like a knife. I opened my eyes to a shape framed in the doorway.

Zuri? The pale silk fabric clinging to her hips fell away in a slow, deliberate slide. For a moment the world narrowed to the curve of her neck, the way the light struck her skin, and the steady, dangerous smile at the corner of her mouth.

I sat up hard immediately. My heart hammered so loudly it felt like the only noise in the room. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and ...