He stared at me blankly, as if sensing something, then suddenly tugged at my robe, exposing the bandaged wound on my shoulder. "Did you let him drink your blood?"
His tone wavered between question and disbelief. "Or did you cut yourself to bait him?"
Am I truly that foolish? To offer my blood to that demon?
When he moved to tear off the bandage, I pressed my hand over it and straightened my robe.
"Curtain call, Baron. No need to keep up this jealous act—don't get so lost in your role you forget it's just a performance!"
Lady Bella sneered, her disdainful gaze scraping over me. "Hmph. Well played, Emory. For effort alone, I'll spare you the pleasure of dying by my hands."
She'd never get the chance—I'd tear her apart first.
Wait—"curtain call"? What did she mean?
I strode from the room, a chill slithering down my spine. Ominous. Was I walking into a trap?
In the living room, Bin poured me juice, then gestured to my lip. "Miss Emory, shall I fetch ointment?"
