Elara-------She had imagined Malcolm Vane many times.In those imaginings he had always been a version of Julian — the same sharp architecture of feature and bearing, the same quality of absolute stillness. She had expected someone who looked like power. Someone whose presence announced itself the moment he entered a room.What she had not expected was how ordinary he looked.He was taller than Julian by an inch, broader through the shoulder, older by seven years in ways that showed cleanly in his face. He wore a grey suit with no tie — understated, expensive, chosen to signal that he had nothing to prove. His hair was darker than Julian's, cut close. His eyes, when they found her across the room, were the same deep brown as his brother's.But where Julian's eyes held something — attention, warmth, the constant low current of feeling he had spent years learning to suppress — Malcolm's were simply clear. The way water is clear. Not empty. Just without depth.He looked at her the way
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