Maeve POV
Xaden’s body trembled with restrained rage as he carried me down a long hallway, past open gilded windows—where I could see the sun barely beginning to set—draped with red and gold-accented curtains, and paintings of what appeared to be royal portraits.
He didn’t speak a word. Not even a sound.
Still, he captured my enraptured attention.
As I looked at him, I was hypnotized by the details of his handsome features—the surprising softness of his lips… the stubble that dusted above his upper lip. This close, I could even see a small scar across his prominent chin.
Faintly, I caught a whiff of his cologne, carried by the wind as he stormed through the mansion—a crisp, cool sort of scent that reminded me of lakesides and pine trees in an autumn forest. With a sigh, I burrowed in
