#Chapter 240: Swoop In

Hannah Noah held his jacket out to me, the warmth of the soft fabric all too inviting against the coldness of the room. “Here,” he said softly. “To cover yourself.” I blinked owlishly at him for several long moments, my mind and my heart warring against each other. On one hand, it was so, so relieving to see a familiar face here, particularly Noah’s face. But on the other hand, I hated him. I hated his very being with every fiber of my own. In that moment, whatever shock and excitement I’d first felt upon seeing him was quickly replaced with rage. Without thinking, I smacked the jacket out of his hands, the fabric landing on the floor with a soft thud. “I don’t want your filthy jacket,” I spat, wrapping my arms around myself. The thin material of my robe did little to ward off the chill of the space, but I would be damned if I deigned to accept anything from him. Noah sighed as he stooped to pick up the discarded garment. He straightened, dusting it