A clear, possessive mark from another man.
Detroit's eyes flashed with intense anger, his jaw clenched in restraint. He felt a surge of possessiveness, a primal urge to claim Mirian as his own, to erase the mark and replace it with his own.
His hand reached out, fingers coming under her chin and lifting her jaw up.
"Who?" he growled, his chest vibrating with the force of it. "Who marked you?"
Mirian's eyes widened, her face paling as she realized what Detroit had seen. She took a step back, her hands rising in a placating gesture. "D– Detroit, please... it's not what you think," she said, her voice trembling.
But Detroit's anger wasn't going to be placated so easily. He took a step closer, his eyes blazing with suppressed fury. "Tell me," he demanded, his voice cold and deadly.
"I– I," her eyes welled up with tears, unwilling to betray Marcus, thinking Detroit would kill him. At the same time, the anger rolling off Detroit was suffocating her, making it hard to breathe.
