Rosaline clung to Lucian as if he were the only solid thing left in her world. Her sobs gradually quieted against his chest, but the tremors in her body lingered. The chamber felt smaller, heavier, the candlelight casting long shadows across the four-poster bed and the scattered pillows she had hurled in her earlier rage. Lucian held her gently, one hand stroking her dark hair while the other rested at the small of her back. He could feel the rapid beat of her heart matching his own uneasy rhythm.
