~ Adeline ~

"Who hit you?"

His words roll low, soft, but hard enough to slice across the gap between us. His hand still against the wall alongside my head, his body holding mine just tightly enough to make my pulse stutter. His scent — that muted mixture of spice and dark cedar — envelopes me, yanking my senses into disarray.

"I asked," he leans forward, his breath caressing my ear, "who hit you?"

My throat tightens. His voice is low, but there's something explosive about the ...