"Yes! But even guests should know not to covet the host's things!" Zyren said, his voice still low but sharp enough to slice the air around them like a blade. Aria flinched slightly, her spine stiffening at the implication.
The growl that came from deep within King Jared's chest was unmistakable, low and dangerous. His gaze flicked over to Aria—sharp and accusing—just as she was trying to pry Zyren's arm from around her waist or at least lessen the pressure, only to fail.
"You speak things you know nothing about! It's your things that couldn't help but move towards me!" he snapped, and Aria felt her cheeks redden and burn with anger.
The words stung. Yes, she had indeed been the one to walk toward him—but that didn't mean he hadn't allowed it, encouraged it even. Moreover, the way they spoke about her incensed her to no end. Their voices clashed like thunder, but she was the lightning caught between.
