Malrik POV

The meeting finally ended and the room shifted gears the edge of it dulled but didn’t vanish, softened under the polite clink of glasses and the low, easy swell of music. People loosened up, some glided out to dance with their mates, laughter threading through conversations. I felt none of it. Mingling wasn’t for me tonight.

What snagged my attention was Zebulon’s silence. He hadn’t raised whatever had Roarke so agitated earlier. Had he decided to drop it? Was he waiting ...