Chapter 15: Shania Twain: Still the One
The voice sliced through the cold.
Luna turned slowly. Kyllian stood at the edge of the doorway, shirtless, his hair tousled.
"What?" she asked.
"You look at the forest like you left your heart there." His eyes studied her, quietly, deeply. It wasn’t a flirtation—it was an observation. A too-accurate one.
"You’re seeing things," she said, quickly. "I just couldn’t sleep."
"Your bedroom not to your liking?" he asked, leaning lazily against the railing, pretending to be casual—but the heat in his gaze betrayed him.
"No! Gods, no. It’s fine." She crossed her arms over her chest as if to ward off the sudden warmth that curled around her. "Kyllian, you don’t have to pamper me."
"I don’t intend to." His voice dropped lower as he stepped closer, invading the space between them.
"Well, that’s good," she said, though her throat had gone dry.
"I intend to make you take your duties seriously." He was close now—too close. His breath ghosted across her collarbone, sending a ripple of goosebumps down her arms. "You cannot escape them. You cannot shelf them. Every single one of your duties."
Her heart thumped against her ribcage.
"Why does that sound like a threat?" she said, stepping back until her spine met the balcony rail. She forced herself to meet his eyes. "Do you think I can’t handle being Luna?"