The master suite door closed behind them with a soft, final click.
Raven stood in the center of the room, her heart racing against her ribs. The silence was deafening. No guardians. No screens. No excuses. Just the two of them and the heavy weight of the ring on her finger.
Vincent leaned against the door for a moment, watching her. His dark eyes moved slowly over her body — the torn dress still hanging off one shoulder, the dried blood on her lip, the way her breathing came too fast.
He pushed off the door and walked toward her.
Raven didn't back away. She lifted her chin, eyes flashing with defiance even as desire throbbed low in her belly.
"This doesn't mean anything," she said, voice rough.
Vincent stopped inches away. Close enough that she could feel the heat of his body. Close enough that his scent wrapped around her again.
"It means everything," he murmured.
