Dean reached the first glass door before Arion realized he had decided to move.
After everything it had taken to reach Snake Island, everything they had done to enter the residence without raising an alarm, and the growing suspicion that Amaru had spent eight years under an artificial pheromonal system designed specifically to keep him controlled, the sight of the man sitting comfortably beneath the winter sun did something unpleasant to Dean's patience.
He pushed through the door.
"You were quite hard to reach."
Amaru looked up from his book.
Dean made it three steps into the sunroom.
Then Arion caught the back of his collar and dragged him violently backward.
Dean stumbled against him, more startled than hurt.
"What the—"
"Stop."
Something in Arion's voice silenced him.
Arion did not release his collar.
His golden eyes were fixed on Amaru.
Dean followed his gaze.
