"Scared, Aveline Laurent?" Damien sneered, his voice laced with venom. "Do you need a bodyguard even to arrive at a place?"
Aveline didn't slow. Neither did the man at her side. She passed right through Damien's looming presence, her heels clicking against the marble floor like deliberate strikes. Her cold voice floated back to Damien without a flicker of hesitation.
"I don't want the drama of putting the Ashfords at my mercy," she said smoothly. "My time, my energy, my hands are far too precious to be dirty for Ashfords."
Her calm dismissal sliced sharper than any insult could.
And Alaric's presence with her was devastating in his silence. It would make everything clearer for the Ashford. She had moved on. She had no intention of forgiving, no intention of saving, no intention of ever being tied to the Ashfords again.
