SARAPHINA’S POV

I dragged Eamon down the hallway, my grip tight around his wrist. He didn’t fight me, but the stiffness in his arm said enough. Beneath my fingers, his muscles were coiled, tense like he was bracing for something worse than the silence between us.

Only when Ronan’s door was far behind us did I stop. Or rather, he did. I nearly stumbled from the momentum, my hand still clutching him like I couldn’t let go.

“What were you doing with him?” I asked, my voice low, ...