Chapter 11 · Blood Awakening

"Hand it over, Ivy. Now."

Cain didn’t move. He didn’t have to. He just stood in the doorway, his silhouette swallowing the light from the hall. His voice wasn't a shout; it was a low vibration that rattled the floorboards under my bare feet.

I clamped my hand over the blood-stained letter, crushing the parchment against my thigh. My heart hammered in my throat.

"Hand. It. Over," he repeated, stepping inside.

He didn't walk. He prowled. The air grew thick, heavy with that oppressive gold-and-iron scent of his power. The room felt like it was shrinking, the walls closing in until there was nothing left but him and the suffocating heat of his gaze.

"It's nothing," I lied.

My voice cracked. I hated it. I hated how small I sounded while he looked at me like a bug he was deciding whether or not to crush.

Cain stopped two feet away. He tilted his head, eyes scanning my face before dropping to my trembling hand. A slow, predatory smile curled his lips.

"You're a terrible liar. Your pulse is jumping in your neck like a trapped bird.