ELIZABETH SHRANK back and tried to push herself through the door. King’s yellow eyes glowed brighter. His nostrils flared as he tilted his head up and stole her scent from the air, a predator finding its prey. He took a step forward, and she flattened herself against the door as tightly as she could. Her blood pounded in her veins and she knew he could sense it too. Slowly, the rhythm of her beating heart was pulling him closer. “King,” she whispered, barely able to get the word past her dry throat. He took another step, closing the distance between them. His bulk blocked out the light, and his face fell into shadows. Only the surreal glow from his eyes filled the void between them. He raised one hand, the gloved fingers stretching out and nearing her face. She was going to die. She pressed her palms against the door, as she raised her chin, one final act of defiance. Then, King’s hand halted its approach and hovered inches from her face, trembling.
