#Chapter 111: Star-Crossed

Ava Chris was silent for some time. He was silent for so long, in fact, that I was worried he might not speak at all. He sat so still, too, that I began to wonder if he had even turned to stone. Finally, he moved—but only to gently pull our hands apart and turn back to face the bar. I watched for a few breathless moments as he took several large gulps of his wine, already nearly finishing off the brand new glass. “Chris,” I finally murmured, my fingers instinctively tightening around the wooden edge of the bar, “say something. Anything.” He merely shrugged. “I don’t know why you let the Elders get under your skin like that,” he said simply. “You act like their word is law, and—” “But it is law.” I frowned, leaning closer to grip the fabric of his shirt sleeve in my fist. He had long since removed his tuxedo jacket and hung it on the back of his chair. His tie was loosened and the first couple of buttons of his shirt were undone, giving him that roguishly h