Eiravyne's breath caught in her throat. The sudden, intense shift in his posture, the sheer, imposing wall of his broad frame caging her in, collided violently with the deep-seated trauma still echoing in her bones.
Panic spiked hot and sharp in her chest.
Before he could lean in any closer, her hands shot out, pressing flat against the hard, warm muscles of his bare chest to physically halt him.
Her shoulders hunched defensively, and her gaze dropped instantly to her lap, her long lashes casting trembling shadows over her pale cheeks.
"I-I'm sorry," she stammered, the words tumbling out in a broken, breathless rush, her voice pitching with a sudden, pitiful stutter.
"I-I didn't... I didn't mean to question you, Urag. I just... I shouldn't have brought him up, I'm sorry.."
The stuttering confession hit Urag like a physical blow to the chest, instantly shattering his teasing momentum.
He had pushed too hard.
