MAILAH'S BREATH HITCHED.
The chandeliers still blazed, the violins still sawed their decadent tune, the guests still swirled in velvet and gold — but to her, the room had shrunk down to the man at her side.
Grayson's eyes.
Silver. No longer the storm-blue-gray she had grown used to, no longer human at all. They glowed like molten mirrors, and she knew, in her bones, in her pulse that beat too fast, what that meant.
His demon was awake.
And here she was, standing beside an incubus.
Her stomach dropped. She'd been kissed by him. Touched by him. Wanted by him — and now she was realizing that desire wasn't just dangerous. It was sustenance. To him.
God. I'm in a ballroom full of predators, and my date is starving.
Heat crawled across her skin, dizzying, unbearable. At first she thought it was her panic, but then her senses sharpened, almost painfully.
