The industry dinner is Thursday evening and Seraphine finds me within ten minutes of my arrival.
Ten minutes. That tells me exactly how carefully she has been tracking my position in this room.
She is exactly what I expected and nothing I was not ready for. Polished. Warm in the way of something that has been sharpened until the warmth itself becomes the cutting edge. When she introduces herself her hand on my arm lingers one deliberate second too long. I keep my wolf completely still underneath everything and give her nothing to read, nothing to measure, nothing she can use.
"You must be the designer," she says. "I have heard such wonderful things about your work on Pinnacle."
"All good things, I hope," I say.
"Of course. Damien speaks very highly of your instincts." She says his nam
