The sun had set behind the walls of Lothian City nearly half an hour ago, and Ashlynn could feel the difference in her chest.
Nyrielle was awake.
The heartbeat that echoed faintly beneath her own had quickened from its deathlike stillness to the slow, steady rhythm that meant her lover had risen from the withered husk of daylight sleep and returned to herself. Somewhere beyond the walls of Lothian City, outside the sacred wards that kept vampires from crossing the threshold, Nyrielle was standing in the cold night air, and she was close enough that the echo of her heartbeat felt like a second pulse beneath Ashlynn's ribs.
The carriage swayed gently as it turned onto the broad avenue that led toward Lothian Manor, and Ashlynn touched the brim of the cavalier hat on her lap, running her fingers along the upturned edge until they found the feather pinned to the hatband.
