Pride.
Absolute, overwhelming pride.
She takes my hand, her fingers wrapping around mine with easy confidence, and steps down onto the red carpet.
Her heels click against the pavement.
Sharp.
Precise.
Absolutely fearless.
"This is extremely extra," she murmurs, her voice low enough that only I can hear.
"It is appropriate," I say.
"There are at least two hundred people staring at us."
"They are staring atyou."
"Same thing."
"No. It is not."
She glances up at me, her dark eyes glinting with amusement.
"You're doing the intense thing again."
"I am aware."
"It's a little overwhelming."
"Good."
Her mouth curves.
Not quite a smile.
But close.
We walk.
Side by side.
My hand rests at the small of her back, my palm spanning the width of her spine, my fingers splayed possessively across the silk.
The crowd parts.
Not dramatically.
Not with obvious deference.
But theymove.
Vampires step aside.
Shifters lower their eyes.
