Daelan's POV
The ride back to the estate feels longer than it should, weighed down by exhaustion and irritation. The auction was a performance, a battleground of whispers and veiled threats, but nothing was more infuriating than meeting him.
Evan Hwan.
Strong. Confident. The kind of man people call a prodigy. The kind of man who stands at the top, looking down at others.
He's also infuriatingly good-looking.
I can't do anything about his face, but I can sure as hell make sure I surpass him. He might be formidable now, but I have something he never will.
Emmaline.
The thought of her alone is enough to temper my frustration. I glance to the side, watching her in the dim lighting of the car, the soft glow of passing streetlights illuminating her golden dress. She looks ethereal, a goddess sculpted in moonlight and silk, her face unreadable as she stares out of the window.
She hasn't spoken to me since we left.
Not since that little display at the auction.
