CHAPTER 214
Three days.
To a human, seventy-two hours was a blink of an eye, a brief cycle of sun and shadow. To a wolf, it was long enough for a scent to fade, for a trail to grow cold.
But to the inhabitants of the Northern mansion, the last three days had stretched into an agonizing, endless eternity of static tension.
The suffocating terror of Elena's parting words still seemed to cling to the very stonework of the fortress, thick and unyielding, refusal to be washed away by the freezing winds howling off the jagged mountain peaks. The atmosphere inside the estate had shifted drastically.
The casual, grand luxury of the Vampire King's home had completely vanished, replaced by the rigid coldness of a military bunker on the eve of an execution.
Lucian was barely around anymore. The ancient Sovereign, usually an inescapable, overwhelming presence within the mansion's walls, had practically vanished.
