Amongst the light crowd, her eyes caught sight of one man who strode up the driveway all alone, without any partner. There was something dangerous about the way he stalked up the gravel. Morana observed him closely, sensing something about him that reminded her a lot of Tristan. She couldn’t make out his height or strength from where she was but he seemed older somehow, at least mid-thirties, his stride confident and comfortable in a way she’d very rarely seen in their world. One of his hands pushed in his dark trouser pocket, everything about the man was dark.
