Adrian Thornwood's Point Of View.
Thornwood Mansion, 3:17 AM
The front doors of the mansion were opened. I crossed the threshold and saw Sebastian and Emily.
He knelt on the rug in front of the couch, shirt sleeves rolled to the elbow, hands gentle as he pressed a cold cloth to Emily’s temple. She sat curled into the corner of the sofa, knees drawn up, arms wrapped around them like she could make herself smaller and disappear.
Her dark hair had come half out of its elegant updo; strandsade strands stuck to the tears on her cheeks. The emerald gown she had worn to the ball was torn at the shoulder and streaked with soot and someone else’s blood.
Sebastian’s voice was low, soothing, the same tone he used with spooked horses and frightened children. “You are safe now, Emily. I swear it
