Lucian stared at Eliza intently. His instinct urged him to lock her in a tower if necessary, but his pride—and that bond that united them—bound him at the same time.
Eliza took another step toward him, her chest brushing against his, her fingers barely touching the fabric of his shirt.
"Trust me," she whispered again. "I won't go without you. But I want to go."
Lucian closed his eyes for a moment, as if containing a storm.
Stephan, from his seat, swirled his glass calmly.
"Very well," he said with a half-smile. "I'll prepare a response for your brother."
Eliza didn't wait for Lucian to reply. She rushed forward, leaving behind the tense air that surrounded them, and left the hall with her heart beating forcefully.
She knew Lucian would follow her with his gaze, that his control was wavering, but she couldn't stand still.
