"Nothing."
Luna hurriedly averted her gaze.
She glanced at his chest, which was almost healed, and retracted the vines in her palm.
Corbin Crowley didn't pay attention to the injury on his chest at all; instead, he pulled her hand to his own heart, his Adam's apple bobbing, his voice uncommonly cautious and gentle: "Luna, as the saying goes, couples bicker at the head of the bed and make up at the end, little quarrels are inevitable between mates. Please don't be mad at me anymore, okay?"
Luna lifted her eyes to look at him—the proud, domineering man—when had he ever acted this careful before?
Right now her heart felt complicated.
However, she still wasn't fully over her anger and couldn't bring herself to back down.
"No way!"
She looked away with a cold face, only to have her stomach let out an untimely "grumble."
Damn this awkward timing…
