Artemisia

I gulp as I look back up, my gaze locking with Logan’s.

“Why did you sneak to the dungeons, babe?” he asks me, and I struggle to make my brain assemble a coherent sentence as I feel Matthew move against me.

“I was worried,” I explain, my voice failing me.

Logan hums, as he steps even closer, our lips nearly touching. “Worried about what?”

“I don’t know,” I whisper, my eyes falling to his mouth repeatedly.

His fingers open my robe and lift my top, grazing my ...