YELENA

I hit the table, hard enough to make the wood thrum under my palm, but he didn’t stop. Tristan kept walking toward me like I was some challenge he had to conquer, and my chest tightened with something I didn’t want to name. What was wrong with him? Why wasn’t he scared of me?

“What are you doing… Tristan?” I asked, my voice trembling but laced with a mix of irritation and something else I wasn’t ready to admit. He smirked, that damn smirk that made my knees weak, and ...