Chapter 675 Angel

The scent of William, a familiar fragrance reminiscent of fresh snow, filled Emelie's senses for the first time in many years. It triggered memories of intimate moments with him, and her expression darkened. William lowered his head. "Your grappling skills have improved. I heard you learned what you know now from Wesley. Did he teach you in positions like this?" They were so close that she could feel his breath on her neck when he spoke. She fought to hold her breath. Even after three years apart, she knew him well enough to sense his displeasure. But why was he angry? She didn't know, and she didn't want to know either. She hated the feeling of being controlled the most, as it reminded her of her helplessness during Ronan's tragic death. Her usually clear eyes were clouded with bloodlust. She raised her head and locked eyes with William. "Let go!" she demanded, her voice low and dangerous. Instead of releasing her, William tightened his grip. "Angel," he said, his voice d