The ride back to the penthouse was wrapped in a heavy, exhausted silence.
Outside the tinted windows of the armored SUV, the city of Lyon was fast asleep, oblivious to the blood that had just been spilled on the ice of their beloved hockey arena. Inside the cab, the air was thick with the scent of ozone, cedar, and the metallic tang of Lucian’s healing wounds.
Lucian sat close—so close that his massive thigh was pressed flush against Elara’s. He had his head tipped back against the leather headrest, his eyes closed. The adrenaline had completely evaporated, leaving behind a man who had literally carried the weight of his entire pack on his shoulders.
Elara didn't speak. She just reached over and laced her fingers through his.
Instantly, his large hand closed around hers, engulfing
