The Great Embassy Gala was a sea of black ties and floor-length gowns. The atmosphere was thick with perfume, politics, and unspoken alliances. For Cassian, it was a nightmare. The crowd was too dense, the exits were obstructed by decorative floral arrangements, and Lyra was wearing a dress that was practically a crime.
It was a slip of midnight-blue satin, cut so low in the back that it reached the base of her spine, and with a slit that ran up to her upper thigh. She looked like a siren, and every man in the room was staring.
Cassian stood a step behind her, his gaze sweeping the room. He felt a simmering jealousy that he couldn't suppress. Every time a diplomat leaned in too close to her, or a young heir touched the small of her back, Cassian’s hand would twitch toward his side, his m
