Inches from his too-hard, cruel face, she realized she wasn’t as stoic as she’d thought. Arsamea had frozen her emotions, but this city and this man made them blaze, and she yearned to knot her hands in his black hair and pull him to her and grit out that he haunted her head, had stalked her nightmares, and that she’d do anything to know who he was, so she could decide whether to rip his heart out of his chest or give him hers.
