Shadow

I watch her settle into the plush cushions, the whiskey glass hanging loosely between her fingers. Black lace hugs every soft curve she still tries so hard to hide, despite the fact that every pair of eyes in this room found her the moment she walked in. Her scent lingers in the air, carrying traces of heartbreak and dried tears mixed with expensive whiskey. Beneath all of that, though, something softer is beginning to emerge, warm, uncertain, and almost intoxicating. My fox stirs beneath my skin, drawn toward her in a way I don't fully understand.

Grey leans back in his chair, his expression calm as always. "So, besides...