DAHLIA

The laughter from the group ahead died down. It was eerie—too sudden to be natural. Every single head turned in perfect unison as if some invisible signal had passed through them.

Twenty pairs of eyes landed directly on us.

My breath caught.

Then, from the centre of the group, one of them stepped forward. He was tall and broad, easily over six feet, and darker than the others. His skin was deep ebony, smooth and unblemished, and his eyes—gods, his eyes—glowed faintly gold. There was something terrifyingly beautiful about him. He was the kind of man who didn’t need to speak to command a room. Power clung to him...