His fingers curled weakly into the vampire's coat. Maybe Sir Draven—no, Sir Melchior—despised him now. Sylene bit the inside of his cheek, trying to steady himself. He felt his twenty years shrink to that shivering night in a winter cave where a blond vampire shielded him from the scientists. Despite the size he'd gained, despite the weight he now carried… in the vampire's arms he felt small again.
When the doors of the automobiles swung open, Regulus barreled forward before anyone could stop him. The lion forced himself between them in the cramped space, planting his heavy body right between Sylene and Sir Draven.
Sylene jolted. The shards of his broken terminal scraped his skin. He hurriedly plucked the rest of the pieces away from his ears and cheeks so Regulus wouldn't get cut if the lion licked him. Each tug brought a fresh sting; thin lines of blood welled up but slowed quickly.
Mavis… Sir Julien…Limou...
