Soren - POV

The scent of whiskey clung to Iris’s lips as she leaned in, her breath hot against my ear.

"Come on, Soren. You and me—tonight—we celebrate. We’re official now, aren’t we?" she whispered, voice laced with playful intoxication.

I barely spared her a glance. "Not interested," I muttered and turned to leave.

I barely made it a few steps before she grabbed my arm.

"What the hell do you think you’re doing?" she hissed, her nails digging into my sleeve.

I ...