Lysaa’s POV
The walk back to our room was quiet, but it wasn’t awkward. It was the kind of silence that simmered with unspoken words, with tension that made my skin tingle beneath the silk of my dress.
After the champagne toast and some talking, I thought we’d both be tired, ready to sleep off the long day. Lorien had that relaxed, satisfied look about him, the one that made his sharp, otherworldly features seem less intense. He tossed his jacket onto the chair by the window and loosened the top buttons of his black shirt, revealing the strong column of his throat and just a hint of the chiseled chest beneath.
And maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the fact that I’d finally gotten to see my mate in all his glory—fierce, protective, and absolutely drop-dead gorgeous—but suddenly,
