Lorien’s POV
I watched him with quiet amusement as he ran the edge of the invitation beneath his nose, as though he could catch some lingering trace of scent days after the Fae had last touched it.
“Riven wrote this?” I asked, leaning forward to examine the elegant handwriting. Each stroke of ink was fluid, perfectly measured so refined that I doubted any human man could produce it. “Maybe he just acts as a scribe for the queen when she’s busy.”
“Riven?” Auren echoed sharply, spitting the name like it was poison. My head lifted, startled by the sudden edge in his tone.
“Um, yes?” I said hesitantly. “Isn’t that who you just mentioned?”
Auren’s growl vibrated low in his chest, his glare flicking from me to the letter resting innocently on the desk between us. “He’s up to something, Lor
