It's only discernible to someone who's watching him closely and knows him well, but Angel flinches.

Before he or anyone else can react further, though, a rumbling snarl cuts through the tableau and Lord Vayan strides forward, his mane straggling loose from its usual tight queue and his eyes blazing with a civilized outrage overlaying a residual bloodlust.

"We had an accord regarding my party," he says to Lorne, very softly. "If the honored host wishes to change his mind and turn us from his door, he were best to take it up with me.