The heavy oak doors of the master suite shut out the freezing draft of the corridor, but the silence inside the room was thick with an impending storm. Draven didn’t let go of my hand. He pulled me toward the center of the room, his movements tight, his chest still heaving with the residual adrenaline of his near-fatal encounter with Julian.
I looked at my reflection in the polished glass. The forest-green silk gown was slightly rumpled from the chaos in the solarium, but my eyes the sharp, lethal green of the Nightveil line were entirely clear. The meek, accommodating placeholder who had arrived at this estate in a transport convoy was gone. Angelica’s desperate attempt to use Julian had stripped away the last of my patience.
A faint, rustling sound from the adjoining balcony made us bo
