The heavy oak door of the guest cottage creaked softly on its hinges as I slipped back inside, the gentle fragrance of the Whitestar garden still clinging faintly me.
The air was thick, heavy, and practically vibrating with an all-too-familiar, stormy tension.
Darius was leaning against the hearth, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. The moment the latch clicked shut behind me, his head snapped up.
His rugged features were twisted into a mask of pure, unadulterated displeasure, his eyes flashing with a dangerous mix of anxiety and irritation.
"Where exactly did you go?" he demanded immediately, his deep voice dropping into a low, gravelly rumble that echoed off the white stone walls before I could even take two steps into the room.
I paused, looking at the sheer magnitude of hi
