They were escorted to the East Wing of the chateau by four of Silas’s white-furred guards.
The corridors were a labyrinth of drafty stone, tapestries depicting ancient, bloody wolf battles, and flickering iron sconces. Every shadow felt alive, watching them.
When the heavy oak door to their assigned suite finally clicked shut, locking them inside, the illusion of civilized hospitality vanished. It wasn't a guest room. It was a holding cell draped in velvet.
Lucian didn't relax. He moved with terrifying, coiled speed, his massive frame sweeping every corner of the lavish, antique-filled room. He checked the heavy iron locks on the windows, stripped the heavy brocade duvet off the four-poster bed to inspect the mattress, and stalked into the adjoining stone bathroom.
He was hunting fo
