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GLYNDON The scene unfolds in slow motion. One moment, Gareth is standing in front of me, and the next, he’s being thrown against the wall with Killian in tow. Raw power simmers from him like a deadly volcano. The type that’s been dormant for centuries and decided to erupt in a fraction of a second. I’ve seen Killian as a soulless devil, a ruthless monster, and an erotic god, but this is the first time I’ve seen him this angry. And the most terrifying part is that his expression remains nonchalant, blank even. Despite the solid exterior, one thing gives away the state of his rage—his dead eyes. They’re not blue anymore, but more black, almost the same color as his narrow pupils. Mum once told me that some people give a ‘back off’ look and it should never be ignored. This is worse than back off. This is nothing short of a declaration of war and a thirst to spill blood. The raw power shakes me to my bones even though it’s not directed at me. Gareth, however, smiles, and it’s the widest I’