Coldness came easily to Vesper; she had been a creature of ice and stone before coming to the fire clan. She knew how to wipe her face clean of expression, to bring down the temperature in her eyes to freeze whoever she looked at. She knew, most importantly of all, how to suppress any emotions that might want to shake her into vulnerability. It was this and her desperate trust in the Aquila that led her to stare at the albino like a snake had found its way into the room—rather than a woman who had found her way in her woman’s bed.
Red eyes narrowed back at her, and as the two stared their mutual displeasure, the intruder scowled and threw her words back at her. This drew a snort from Vesper, who crossed her scarred arms over her pale, steel-dappled chest as she considered. She would not deign to answer the second question; she had a right to be here that this bone-pale stranger did not.
“I’m Vesper,” the tawny hybrid responded after a beat, lips pulling taut, “Myrika’s—” And the hesitation came, a pause that might have lasted an instant, a pause that felt like a far more drastic stumble. “Second in command,” she finished with authority, but the mangled remnants of her left ear twitched discomfort.
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