"Invited?"
The word hung in the damp air of the boathouse, heavy with betrayal.
Cyprian didn't ask "by whom." He knew. The gun in his hand snapped up, the barrel pressing directly against Julian’s forehead.
"You let her in," Cyprian snarled, his finger whitening on the trigger. "You opened my doors to a Thorne."
Julian didn't flinch. He just took another drag of his cigarette, the smoke curling around the cold steel of the gun barrel.
"I opened the door," Julian corrected calmly, "to show you that your fortress is made of glass. You think you're safe because you have thick walls? The Thornes don't attack walls, Cyprian. They attack the foundation."
He pointed a bony finger at the laptop screen.
"Watch."
I stepped closer to the screen, my heart hammering against my ribs.
On the gra
