She didn’t expect a response, maybe a growl, maybe silence, but what she got instead froze her blood. He turned.
He didn’t speak at first.
He just looked at her.
And she wished he hadn’t.
Because in that moment, River felt like she was staring into the face of something inhuman—his eyes weren’t just fierce, they were haunted, his expression twisted in pain and something else… something dark. His features were half-shadowed by the flickering candlelight, but what she saw was enough to make her knees weak. He looked like a man on the edge. No, not a man. He looked like Deathstrike.
She didn’t know whether to run or cry.
But then his voice broke the silence, low and hard, like a blade being drawn.
“Get in bed.”
Her breath caught in her throat.
She blinked, sure she’d misheard him.
“
