[Ava's POV]
The silence they had left behind them was a palpable one, heavy and oppressive, only interrupted by the hectic, hummingbird thump of my own heart. I perched on the thin rug in front of the fire, its warmth failing to thaw the ice beginning to crystallize in my veins.
My skin seemed too tight, every nerve ending acute, thrumming with the ghost impressions of their proximity. Rhett's earthy touch, Lucian's hot stare, Jaxon's. Jaxon's ruinous stillness. The connection was a live wire, frayed and sizzling in my chest, between three vertices of a killer constellation.
I could sense them, even now. Rhett's restless pacing just out of sight of the main room, a low thrum of guarding energy. Lucian's piercing, snappish humor, a bitter taste at the back of my tongue. And Jaxon… Jaxon
