"Dahlia," Dreon said, his voice low, almost cautious, as her eyes followed the three men walking away. Her eyes lingered on them until they vanished, then snapped back to him. Silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating.“Took you a century,” she said, her voice calm and cold, each word slicing through the quiet."My apologies, Dahlia," Dreon replied, his tone steady. "What do you want me to do?"She rose slowly, each movement deliberate, and stepped toward him. Her hand grazed his cheek before sliding down to rest lightly against his chest. Dreon remained still, his eyes locked on her as her fingers traced the line of his abdomen. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, letting the contact linger, a soft breath slipping past her lips.Her hand slid lower, but Dreon caught it, his grip firm and unyielding, his eyes sharp and cold, holding hers with a dangerous intensity. Slowly, she met his gaze, neither flinching, both radiating control. She leaned closer, letting her lips
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