Emerald tossed her phone onto the bed and rubbed her temples.
"I swear," she muttered, "if one more man sends me a threatening love letter…"
Viola snorted. "You're collecting red flags like trophies."
She rolled her eyes, but the smile that briefly appeared faded fast. Ares had a point—again. She wasn't safe here. Not entirely. But safety had never been guaranteed in any pack she'd set foot in. At least here, she had control of the game she was about to play.
And it was time to start.
—
The following morning, she entered the breakfast hall to find Lucien already seated. A pot of tea steamed between them, untouched.
He looked up as she entered. "You stayed."
She took her seat opposite him, smoothing her hands over the folds of her dress. "I said I would."
His gaze lingered for a beat too long. "Why did you call Kieran? Why not Darius?"
"I didn't want to worry him," she said simply. "He'd have dropped everything to come."
