AMARA'S POV

Diane's lips were inches from Caelan's when his hand shot out.

He caught her wrist mid-motion, yanking her back with enough force that she stumbled in her elaborate gown. The movement was rough, almost brutal, and the sharp glare he leveled at her could have frozen fire.

"That's enough, Diane," he said, his voice cold as winter steel.

The entire assembled staff seemed to hold their breath. I felt my own chest tighten, though I couldn't name why. This was expected. Of course he had a ...