Draven.
By the time I stepped into the dining hall, the familiar hum of servants quieted into near silence. My gaze immediately found Meredith at the long table.
Then almost immediately, all heads turned to my direction. One by one, they all stood, their chairs scraping backwards.
But before they could verbally acknowledge my presence, I gestured for them to settle down. And they did.
I returned my gaze at Meredith. She sat straight-backed in her chair, her silver hair pinned neatly into an elaborate updo, her hands folded close to her plate as though she were guarding herself.
To anyone else, she looked composed—serene, even. But I had known her long enough now to notice the subtle tells: the stiffness of her shoulders, the faint shadow in her eyes that hadn't been there last night.
Rhovan stirred in the back of my mind, a low rumble threading through me. "It seems like our mate is embittered."
My jaw flexed, ready to order punishments. "Embittered? Toward whom?|
