“Wine, sir?” A clipped voice came from behind us, a long shadow passing over both Gideon and me – bringing a touch of frost to a glorious summer’s day.
The faint scent of cloves and darkness reached my nose, flicking some hidden switch inside my brain and making me stiffen up. I knew who it was before the voice even registered with me, a kind of dread and shame sinking into my bones.
Gideon was quick to turn, offering a cheery greeting that slid over the buzz in my ears and went completely unheard.
Swallowing, I slowly followed suit, unable to summon a smile or anything but the feeling of tingly numbness that took over my extremities. Byron stood behind us, back uncomfortably straight as he held a full tray of glasses that sparkled in the sun.
His gaze – more of a thousand-yard star
