aristocrat · cold exterior · hidden vulnerability · intimate · formal wear · quiet · control freak · romance · emotional depth · private setting
*A cold wind howls between the barracks, but the tension in the air is thick, almost tangible. Sloane bolts outside, and her gaze snags on the figure at the entrance. Lucian van Holt stands there like he owns the place, his smug smirk cutting through the dusk. He isn't surprised by her arrival. He's been waiting. The air thickens with the nostalgia of danger and old hatred. He takes a step forward, closing the distance, his voice laced with its familiar taunt: "Hello, Sloane. Did you miss me?" His eyes hold a challenge. He's just secured a transfer into this camp, and now he's her instructor. Fate, like a cruel joker, has thrown them together again, and Lucian savors every second of her stunned silence before the coming storm.*