"What just happened?"
"He recognized the bond."
"How?"
"Scent. Pheromones. The way my body responds to your proximity."
"That's... invasive."
"It is biology."
"Still invasive."
I guide her toward the bar, my hand sliding lower on her back.
Possessive.
Claiming.
Making absolutely certain that every single person in this room understands that she ismine.
We reach the bar.
The bartender—a vampire with sharp cheekbones and silver-white hair—looks up as we approach.
"Mr. Thorne," she says. Her voice is smooth, cultured. "What can I get for you?"
"Water," I say. "Still. No ice."
She nods and turns to Tamsin.
"And for you, Ms...?"
"Beck," Tamsin says. "Tamsin Beck. And I'll have whatever he's having."
The bartender's eyes flick to the choker.
Her expression shifts.
Not fear.
Respect.
"Of course, Ms. Beck."
She pours two glasses of water and slides them across the bar.
Tamsin takes hers, her fingers brushing against mine as she lifts the glass to her lips.
"This is the weirdest night of my life," she murmurs.
"It is only beginning."
"That's not reassuring."
"It is not meant to be."
She takes a sip of water, her eyes scanning the crowd.
