I pushed open the heavy oak doors of the packhouse, stepping into the foyer. The familiar scent of pine and earth filled my nose, but it no longer felt like home. I rubbed at my swollen, red eyes, silently hoping the puffiness would fade before anyone noticed.
Eros’s scent lingered in the air, strong and commanding as always. I heard his footsteps before I saw him, and when he rounded the corner, his piercing eyes locked on me.
“Remi,” he said, his tone clipped. “What happened to your eyes?”
I hesitated, my heart clenching at the sudden attention. Maybe he noticed because he cared. Maybe... just maybe. But his expression wasn’t soft or concerned—it was cold, impatient.
“Nothing,” I mumbled, lowering my gaze. “Just some sand. It’s nothing.”
He stared at me for a moment longer, then shrugged. “We’re late. Let’s go.”
I blinked. “I need to change first. I—”
“No,” he cut me off, his tone sharp. “You don’t need to change. We’re already late, and I won’t have everyone waiting for us.”
I looked down at my worn jeans and plain shirt, my heart sinking. “But—”
“Enough, Remi.” He grabbed my wrist, his grip firm but not painful, and pulled me toward the door. “You look fine. Let’s go.”