Claudia
There was a silence so thick I could hear my own pulse against the stillness. The name hung between us like a sharp blade, and I wished I hadn't said it—not because I didn't want to know, but because of the way Marcellus looked at me after I did.
His shoulders stiffened. His jaw clenched. And the air that once buzzed with his nearness grew cold and distant. I saw the way he blinked, like he was trying to push something down—something that still had a hold on him.
"Inessa," he repeated, as if he were trying to convince himself I'd really said it.
My lips parted but no words followed. I was trembling, even though the night breeze wasn't that cold. It was him. The tension in his body. The way his eyes darkened like a storm was forming behind them. He didn't yell. He didn't lash out. But somehow, that made it worse.
"She was no one," he said finally, voice low, calculated. Too calm.
I laughed, a bitter sound I didn't recognize. "She didn't sound like no one."
