"I don't need an escort," I insisted, wrapping my shawl tighter around my shoulders as I descended the steps of the Thorne mansion. The night air had a bite to it, matching the cool demeanor of the man glowering at me from the bottom of the stairs.
Reed Vance—Cassian's twin brother—looked nothing like the warm, helpful man I'd come to know over the past months. Where Cassian's eyes held kindness, Reed's were sharp with judgment. His jaw was set in perpetual disapproval as he stared up at me.
"The Duke ordered it," he replied curtly. "And I've learned not to argue with Alaric Thorne."
I rolled my eyes. "How fortunate I haven't developed that particular habit."
Reed's mouth twitched, though whether in amusement or annoyance, I couldn't tell. "The carriage is waiting."
As I reached the bottom step, he offered his arm with all the enthusiasm of someone extending a hand to a leper. I pointedly ignored it, walking past him toward the waiting carriage.
