Cecilia
Sebastian's voice cut through my thoughts like a blade dipped in ice.
I turned instinctively, caught in the weight of his gaze from across the aisle.
It was sharp. Pinning. Possessive.
Heat surged to my cheeks.
His eyes—dark, unreadable, yet far too focused—locked on mine and didn't let go.
As if daring me to look away.
As if I belonged under that gaze.
“I apologize, Alpha Sebastian,” I said, lowering my head, though not fully. “It won't happen again.”
A beat of silence.
Then, his voice—cool and low—cut through the air.
“One would hope.”
But it wasn't just reprimand in his tone.
There was something else.
A warning. A claim.
As if my attention, even my thoughts, were his to command—and he didn't appreciate sharing.
Heat coiled low in
