Roman immediately tugged Violet into his side, his glare promising blood if anyone got too close. Griffin stepped in front of them, his broad shoulders blocking the cameras, and he growled, "Back. Off."
The reporters slowed at last, but the damage was already done.
Roman and Griffin each grabbed Violet's arm and steered her through the throng, shielding her with their bodies. Flashes still sparked from behind as a few persistent reporters tried to follow them, but security formed a wall at the threshold.
"No further," one of the guards barked.
Violet's pulse was still racing. She felt flustered, like some cheap product displayed at a market stall for anyone to appraise. The Matebond was important, yes, but she was more than just the mark on her skin. And damn it, a little warning would have been nice.
"Wasn't this supposed to be a small party?" she asked, annoyed.
Where did the reporters come from?
