The moment the message sent, she silenced Selene's contact, tossed the communicator aside, and prepared for sleep.
She did not know how much time had passed when thirst dragged her from restless dreams. She crept down the stone stairs toward the kitchens, but as she reached the landing, muffled voices drifted up from the great hall below.
Fenris's voice—tight with a tension she had never heard before, edged with anger and something that sounded almost like fear: "Who told you to attend that kind of gathering? Do you have any idea what would have happened if I had arrived ten minutes later? Those rogues had you drugged and halfway to their den!"
Selene's voice came thick with tears, every word designed to elicit pity, her eyes surely brimming: "I did not want to go... but the organizers said if I skipped it, I would lose my standing in the entertainment circles. I cannot afford to miss this chance." She sniffled. "I am not like Lyra. Even when she is drowning in howl-storms, even when the entire territory is tearing her reputation apart, you still stand by her. You are still going to make her your bonded mate. She has you to catch her when she falls."