Aveline
The Black Fang estate buzzed with unusual activity. Guards moved faster than usual, deliveries came in waves, and Matteo had been out of sight for the better part of the morning—either wrapped in council dealings or playing power games I wasn’t yet invited to witness.
I used the lull for something selfish: a moment of peace in the garden’s outer courtyard, where the roses had long died and thorns ruled. I sat on the stone bench beneath a crumbling arch, letting the sunlight kiss my arms, my thoughts slow. I wasn’t expecting anyone, least of all someone like him.
The man walked in like he owned the world but wasn’t interested in showing off about it.
He wore a black fitted jacket over a wine-red shirt, sleeves pushed to the elbows, tattoos curling over his forearms like vines ma
