Being looked at by Scythe is like having a pair of ice picks spearing into you. Being stared at by him? It’s like those ice picks are twisting. It’s cold and calculating, but damn, he looks hot doing it. To think I’d snuck in track pants to cover his naked ass in that dungeon, when he’s used to wearing expensive clothes like this? I’m embarrassed I even tried now. Xander’s grip tightens painfully around my wrists. “Snake’s not lying,” he snaps. “But you can’t deny that you’re running away from us. And you lied about not being our regina.”
