She stood in front of him, hands on her hips, waiting for a thank you that didn’t come.
So she slipped out of the room and shut the door behind her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The hallways were empty, save a few dazed members of Otto’s human staff, as Mireille dashed down to the first floor.
The parlors and sitting rooms were similarly unoccupied, the guests sleeping off both last night’s party and this morning’s shocking performance.
She was a bit surprised to find no one else attempting to leave. Had they all been seduced by Otto’s mad promises?
She pushed through the glass double-doors, welcomed by a blast of frosty air. Rows of icicles hung from the cornice above, like dripping fangs in the morning sun.
She couldn’t get Ronin’s harsh words out of her mind.
Never pegged you for a fucking quitter.
She wasn’tquitting. She was making a prudent decision based on newly revealed information. Ruthless fucking efficiency. If Ronin couldn’t understand that, then best of luck to him.
Mireille slipped off the patio and into the gardens. The chairs had been removed, the empty flagstone square dusted with a thin covering of sugary snow. Wisps of smoke curled off the smoldering arch.
She aimed for the waist-high hedges beyond which she’d spied a path leading into the woods. She kept her footsteps slow, glancing up at the estate’s windows. If anyone saw her, she needed to appear to be on a casual stroll.
Wending down the path, she tried to not let the eerie quiet spook her. She heard not a single call of any winter bird, nor the rustle of any other small woodland creature. Snow fell from spindly evergreens, swallowing every sound save her crunching footsteps.
She’d only been walking for a few minutes before she slammed into something hard.
The air wobbled, and she cursed softly, shaking off her smarting hand and knee. She flattened a palm against the source of the vibration. The barrier was solid, yet pliable, and as she tried to force her hand through, it molded around her fingers, stretching like taffy but not breaking.
Otto had erected a security ward around the entire estate. She scolded herself for not considering the possibility. Especially after she’d experienced the effects of his wards last night.
Following along the slight shimmer in the air, she paused every few feet to check for cracks or weaknesses. She found none.
And with each pause, her panic grew. Her wolf paced within her mind, releasing soft snarls and chuffs of frustration. Claws poked at Mireille’s fingertips, her canines creasing her bottom lip.
She cracked her neck, breathing deeply and banishing her beast.
She placed her commstone beneath her ear. Maybe this close to the barrier, she could get a signal?
No luck. The stone remained cold and dead. She slipped it back into her bag.
There had to be a break in the barrier somewhere. Possibly at the front of the estate by the towering entrance gate?
She secured her bag, ready to make a run for it, when a deep voice boomed behind her.
“Where do you think you’re going, little ballerina?”
Fuck her.
Seriously.Fuck.Her.
It had taken less than twenty-four hours for Mireille to ditch Ronin. To decide she’d rather risk the wrath of Skanisse and the Emperor than see this assignment through with him.
Whatever they’d offered her must not be that enticing. And he realized just how little he knew about her when he couldn’t think of what it could possibly be.
Had they offered her wealth? A position of power? Mireille didn’t seem like the type of female who would care about either of those things. But maybe she’d been playing him all along.
She was so High-Gods-damned stubborn. And bossy. And independent to a fault. Ready to dash away without even having a proper conversation like agoodpartner would have done. He shouldn’t have been surprised, given that stunt she’d pulled outside Otto’s office last night.
