In Aveline's bedroom,
His rich and genuine laughter was still ringing in her ears when Aveline smiled at her reflection in the mirror. Then she met her gaze and snapped back to reality. She was late. Quickly tying her hair in a messy bun, she hurried downstairs.
Alaric's gaze lifted, drawn to the subtle whispers from the staircase. And then he saw her.
Aveline.
She smiled at the maid and descended the stairs like she belonged in another world. Draped in silk, the soft pleats of her ivory dress shimmered like moonlight. It cinched at her waist, fluid and commanding, but it was the silk scarf fluttering behind her like a breath of wind that struck him most.
The loose strands of her hair framed her delicate face, creating a gentle and inviting look. There was no jewelry competing for attention.
He didn't blink. He couldn't because she had never looked more dangerous.
