King Killian pushed his chair as he hurriedly walked over to the door. Elena stepped aside, allowing him to check the door and to his shock, it was locked indeed. How did this even happen?
With King Killian's strength, he would have easily broken the door but this one was made of titanium, and pure gold. Besides, it was huge. He kept trying to open the door, his fingers curling tighter around the handle each time it refused to move.
A muscle ticked in his jaw, his breaths growing heavier, more uneven. He wasn't supposed to feel anything—not irritation, not discomfort, and certainly not this restless heat crawling beneath his skin. But Elena's quiet presence behind him felt suffocating. He simply wanted to not be in the same space with her.
