Suddenly, two firm hands coil around my waist from behind me, a hard chest pushing into my back. Between the split seconds it takes for me to reach for my dagger, I notice two things: The Vainglory signet ring on his left pinky finger and the smell of Wolfgang’s cologne, smoky with a hint of vanilla. My actions continue to dumbfound me as I abruptly stop in my tracks, my breath catching in my throat.
