A few seconds before the kiss, Rowan didn't know what he was feeling.
He had been allowed to sit with them—inside the private alcove, at the same table as Noel, Alaric, and Joel—despite being a slave. That alone felt like a small miracle. The waiter had hesitated only a moment before bringing an extra chair, and Alaric had waved it off with a calm "He stays."
Rowan had sat stiffly at first, hands folded in his lap, eyes down, trying not to draw attention. But then he noticed Noel's gaze drifting across the room—fixing on Bennett at the far table.
Bennett was laughing low at something the beautiful woman across from him had said.
Noel stared.
Not long.
But long enough.
And something ugly twisted inside Rowan's chest.
It wasn't just jealousy.
It was worse.
He wanted to drive a knife into Bennett's neck.
He wanted Bennett gone—permanently.
