Lilian didn't mean to wake before the others. Her body had apparently decided that four hours was enough sleep now, which was one of the more annoying side effects of being a vampire that nobody had warned her about.
She lay still, staring at the ceiling in the low amber glow of dying embers from the fireplace, counting her blessings in the dark.
Her mother was safe. The Collector was gone for now. Erielle and her little cult were locked in the dungeons waiting for whatever fate Valerius had in store for them.
And she was still in one piece.
Three very warm, very heavy, and very unconscious men surrounded her from every direction, which was both the most ridiculous and the most comforting thing she had ever experienced in her life.
