Chapter Thirty-Two
* A Pact in the Dark*
Alexander stared at Saphira, the ice in his own drink forgotten. The alcohol in his veins, mixed with the constant, simmering humiliation Lyra had caused him, began to boil.
"They had a family introduction?" he repeated, his voice tight. The image was a physical ache—Lyra, calm and elegant, being presented to the Lax dynasty as a prize, while he was here in a dark bar, a nobody. "Where is she staying? At a hotel? Or is she already... in his house?"
Saphira watched the jealousy twist his features, and it was like fuel on her own fire. "His house, of course," she said, her voice a bitter sing-song. "The penthouse in the sky. Probably picking out silk sheets right now, laughing about us."
Alexander pushed his chair back, the legs screeching agains
