The drive back to the mansion was conducted in a silence so thick and pressurized it felt as though the interior of the sleek black sedan were a vacuum. Darien stared out the tinted window at the blurred, neon-streaked landscape of the city he owned.
His mind was a chaotic battlefield. On one side was the primal, draconic instinct that demanded absolute control over his territory and his Anchor. On the other side were Theron's blunt, human words, ringing in his ears like a persistent bell. "She's the only one who doesn't give a damn about your title. To her, you didn't provide a secure perimeter. You provided a loss of identity."
When the car finally pulled up the long, winding driveway of the estate, Darien didn't wait for the driver to open his door. He stepped out before the vehicle had even come to a full stop, his long strides carrying him toward the grand entrance with an air of restless, nervous expectation.
