Julian's POV
Dante's arm across my shoulders felt like a leaden yoke, designed to crush the very last of my dignity. I could hear heavy thuds of his hand against my back and each of them was a calculated insult. I was frozen, my arms hanging uselessly at my sides, acutely aware of the hundreds of eyes boring into us. I could feel the mockery vibrating in Dante's chest as he laughed.
I finally managed to wrench myself out of his grasp, my skin crawling where he had touched me. I didn't look at Catherine. I couldn't. I knew if I saw her leaning into him, looking at me with that cold pity, I would lose the very little composure I had left. I reached out, grabbed Lucy's arm with a grip that was far tighter than necessary, and began walking. I needed to get away from the whispers, the snickers, and the suffocating presence of a man who was openly taking what belonged to me.
