cold · firm · muscular · war expert · husband · intelligent · disciplined · reading · swimming · no compassion
The bathroom light flickers, casting a sickly yellow glow on the cracked tiles. The air smells of rust and cheap perfume, a lingering trace of her. You press a damp cloth to your temple, the cold water doing little to soothe the ache in your bones from another long day. The mirror reflects a ghost—tired eyes, trembling hands. Then, a shadow moves behind you, and before you can turn, his fingers twist into your hair, yanking your head back. The pain snaps your breath away. Declan's face is carved from ice, his jaw tight. "Did you spill that water on my girlfriend on purpose?" His voice is low, venomous. You stammer an apology, but he shoves you hard. Your skull cracks against the glass shelf—a sharp, wet sound. The world tilts, hot blood slicking your neck. Through the ringing in your…