Severneâs smile disappeared, interrupting her thoughts. He went from indolent royal to intimidating man in seconds. He stood as the semblance of a lazy royalty fell away.
âGrim,â he said. There was no doubt it was a warning.
Katherine hadnât relaxed with the monstrous dog, but she had convinced herself it was safe. Now, with her intimidating host reacting to the dogâs presence, she wasnât so sure.
She moved to position herself between the boyâwho had obviously felt comfortable enough with Severne to share his nameâand the dog. Severne stepped forward, but not before his glance took in her brave move with a slight shift of eyes that gleamed in the candlelight from the table. All the green sheâd seen before was lost. His eyes were black in this light and, if possible, his jaw firmed before looking back at the dog.
He stared the dog down, and its eyes widened and flared. Her body tensed. Every muscle quivered as she prepared to react to the result of the unspoken communication between the dog and his master. It was so ferociously tense that it might lead to blood.
But if it was a challenge, John Severne came away the victor. How had she doubted for a second he would? The dogâs head dipped, and he stepped back several paces before turning to disappear the way heâd come.
âGood boy,â Kat said. Her voice was an adrenaline-soaked quiver. That sign of fear was embarrassing, but she stood tall. Her body might have been a poor shield, but sheâd offered it to Eric one more time.
The child at the table lowered the glass heâd held frozen to his lips during the confrontation. Severne stepped back to the table and held out her chair. Still not as relaxed as heâd seemed when she came in the room, but pretending to be. He met her gaze as she moved to take the proffered seat. Met and held, his stare giving away nothing of why the dog was banished from the room, but not the opera house. His eyes were still dark in the candlelight, without a hint of green. She had the sudden urge to edge even closer to him to rediscover the softer moss hue around his pupils that sheâd seen before.
âGrim? Isnât that the name of a mythological hound thatâs a portent of death?â she asked, though it was Severneâs nearness she truly questioned. Why he lingered near her, why she cared, why an invisible force tingled across her skin when the mere cuff of his suit brushed against her with his movements to help her sit. Better to turn the subject to the large dog, even though it and the death it represented didnât seem nearly as urgent as the scent of smoky candle from Severneâs skin. âTheyâre supposed to frequent places of execution in England.â
âAnd crossroads. They traverse ancient pathways. Theyâre seen as guardians in many cultures,â Severne said. âGrim is actually a hellhound, and he takes his job too seriously at times. Heâs the protector of this place and of me since I was a child.â
She hadnât felt protected by Grim. More like he was protecting someone or something from her. But what threat did she pose to the master of lâOpéra Severne? What secrets did Severneâs Grim guard?
Severne moved back to his seat and sank down. But this time he didnât recline. He appeared hard against the velvet, as if its decadent softness couldnât entice him to relax ever again. Eric watched one of them and then the other silently.
âI wonder, was Grim guarding me from something in the corridor outside my room, or...?â
âProtecting something from you?â Severne finished. His eyes shifted to take in Ericâs stare, and he seemed to stop himself from saying more. Out of consideration for the boyâs feelings and his recent loss? The loss that sheâd played such a horrible part in?
Her own chair swallowed her. She didnât feel like royalty at all. Now she
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