The guard’s hand opens, and Diran’s focus falls out of his grip. It bounces against the stone floor and rolls away from us as he blinks the glaze from his eyes. He looks down, and his eyes widen with surprise when he finds his hand around my throat and his knee pressed between my legs. I follow his gaze, grinning wryly up at him. “Usually I at least know the name of the person grabbing my throat.”
