On the balcony of the Montrose mansion, Duke Cedric stood with his hands resting against the railing, his gaze lost in the misty night beyond. It could have been a moment of weakness, or perhaps something deeper—conflicted emotions he could not put into words. From a distance, he had always viewed Lord Rhaegal as nothing more than an arrogant, condescending, unfeeling vampire. But after the journey north and the days spent trapped together in the rebels' camp, his perspective had begun to shift.
Cedric's jealousy had first taken root in the unwavering loyalty and trust the king placed in Rhaegal. Later, it had deepened when he saw how fiercely the princess coveted him, willing to make him her husband at any cost. Yet now, standing in the cold night air, Cedric could finally understand. He could see for himself why the king trusted him, why Avaline was so determined.
