The Vane Mansion had been scrubbed of the scent of ozone and silver, replaced by the cloying, heavy fragrance of white lilies and expensive wax. To the world, this was a diplomatic gathering of the century's most powerful "investors." To the shadows, it was a summit of monsters. In this city of eternal rain, the estate stood like a fortress of light, its windows glowing with a deceptive warmth that masked the predatory silence within.
Kaelen had spent the afternoon in a state of controlled, lethal focus. He had not touched me since our return from the hospital ruins. He had watched me from across the room, his emerald eyes dark with a mixture of guilt and a terrifying, renewed resolve. He had ordered the finest silks for me—a gown the color of deep, oxidized blood, draped in a way that left the mark on my neck visible to everyone. It wasn't a dress; it was a flag of possession.
