Eve's POV
The eastern wing smelled different.
She noticed it the moment Malachai's people led her through the boundary of his faction's territory.....something in the air that was older, heavier, like the stone here had absorbed forty years of one particular presence and stopped being neutral about it.
She kept her face even and kept walking.
Damian and Damon had argued about this for twenty minutes that morning. Coming alone, into his territory, with no backup inside the room. Raphael had been quieter about it which meant he was more worried, not less. She'd listened to all of it and then she'd said....he invited me. He won't touch me here. It would cost him everything the moment it became known.
She'd been right. She was fairly sure she'd been right.
The study was at the end of a long corridor. Dark wood door, no markings. One of Malachai's people knocked, opened it, and stepped aside.
Eve walked in.
It was a smaller room than she'd expected.
