I had just stepped out of the bathroom, steam still clinging to my skin, the robe tied loosely around my body, when the door burst open.
The sound made me flinch.
Before I could even turn, Zander was already inside.
He slammed the door shut behind him with a force that rattled the walls. His presence filled the room instantly—too sharp, too intense, like a storm that had been holding itself back for too long. There was blood just above his eyebrow, an open wound, dark and wet, cutting through his calm like a crack in glass.
I barely had time to process it.
Before I could speak, before I could step back, he was on me.
His hands locked around my body and lifted me clean off the ground. I gasped, instinctively reaching for him, but there was no fighting it. He carried me across the room
