"Rory… I'm scared."
Vincent's voice was hoarse, roughened beyond recognition. His arms tightened around her like iron bands, locking her against his chest.
"I'm always busy with work. My temperament isn't exactly charming. I don't receive your favoritism the way Jasper does. I'm not as good at coaxing you as Yuel. And I can't revolve around you every day the way Nix can."
"I'm afraid that after we bond, I will fall even further behind them."
As he spoke, Vincent slowly loosened his hold—then lowered himself onto one knee before her.
"Rory, I'm not asking you to favor me the way you favor Jasper. I only ask that you don't dislike me. After we bond… could you look at me a little more?"
"When you have time… could you spend a little more of it with me, too? Is that too much to ask?"
Rory froze.
Looking down at the man kneeling before her, her heart clenched as though seized by an invisible hand.
