Prince Lucian Steps In
Oliver Hayes's Point of View
She was standing in the middle of his wolves, still upright, still glaring.
That was the first thing he noticed. After everything that had happened tonight, after the room and whatever had taken place in it, after being caught at the border, she was still standing there looking at him like he was the one who should be ashamed.
He looked at the coat on her shoulders and recognized it immediately.
It was Prince Lucian's coat. The same silver fabric from the ceremony. Unmistakable.
Something sharp and unpleasant moved through his chest. He pressed it down and kept his face even.
So she had survived the room. More than survived, by the look of it. She had walked out wearing the prince's coat like it belonged to her, made it halfway acr
