CHAPTER 35
"Your turn" The word wasn't a request. It was a low vibration that seemed to travel through the floorboards and up Isabella's spine.
Lucian stood up from the coffee table, his towering frame casting a long shadow over her as she sat on the edge of the couch.
He didn't look like a man who had just been torn apart by silver. He looked like a predator who had been handed back his teeth—and was deciding what to do with them.
He stepped closer. Heat rolled off his bare chest, clashing violently with the unnatural chill soaking her clothes, the obsidian water clinging to her skin like a curse that refused to let go.
Isabella's mind raced, latching onto the worst possible thought at the worst possible time.
Of course.
She felt like hell, looked worse, and now she had to strip in front of a stupidly handsome immortal king who could feel her pulse from across the room.
