He blinked, his vision blurry in the darkened chamber. He heard a rustle. "Annabel?" he said groggily. "Not the last time I checked," a deep, haughty voice replied. Will jolted upright, air hissing through his teeth. Shock overwhelmed the pain as he caught sight of the tall, broad-shouldered figure standing in the shadows. Despite the dimness, there was no mistaking the black hair and icy jade eyes. The pale, chiseled features. The coldly amused expression that Will detested with every fiber of his being. "What the fuck are you doing here, Strathaven?" he growled. His brother smiled—a pulling back of the lips that conveyed no amusement. "If you'd paid any attention to my letters you would have expected me. But perhaps, Peregrine, you've forgotten how to read?" "It's Will. And I haven't forgotten anything," Will said flatly. "Which is why I tossed your bluidy missives into the fire." Strathaven's eyes narrowed.
