Alexander’s POV
Click.
The sound of the heavy oak door latching shut was the loudest thing in the house. I stood in the hallway, staring at the dark wood grain, my hand hovering inches from the bronze handle.
I could hear her moving inside the library—the soft rustle of her jeans against the leather furniture, the hesitant click of her heels on the hardwood as she approached the window. I could hear the rapid, fluttery rhythm of her heart, still elevated from the drive and the sheer, crushing weight of this place.
Go back, Titus growled, pacing the perimeter of my mind, his claws scraping against my skull. She is alone. Unsafe. We should be inside. Guarding.
She needs space, I countered, dropping my hand and forcing myself to turn away. And I need… distance. I walked down the long, sh
