Nyla’s POV
The shadow restraints release me, and I drop onto the carpet on shaking legs and nearly collapse.
He doesn't catch me. He stands at his full height, amber eyes burning, and watches me stumble against the edge of the circle. The door is ten feet away. My keys are on the counter.
I don't move toward the door.
I look at him and stare. Eight feet of obsidian skin and burning eyes and a c**k glistening with my arousal and I walk back toward the circle because something in my body has decided that whatever he does to me next is worth more than whatever's on the other side of that door.
Something shifts in his expression. The arrogance thins into something possessive and raw.
"Brave girl," he says, and his voice hums through the floorboards. "Or foolish. I haven't decided which."
