Violet woke up to a very distinct voice humming a melody, familiar fingers gently running through her hair.
Roman Draven.
"Hello, darling." Roman was all smiles, his eyes lighting up like Christmas had come early.
"Goddess," Violet groaned, stretching. Her body hurt like hell, almost as if a train had crashed into her and ran her over again and again. The last thing she remembered was—
"Oh shit." She shot upright as memories of the training ground came flooding back.
Roman sat up with her at the same time. "I know what you're thinking, but it's not what it looks like—"
But Violet wasn't listening.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed and nearly collapsed, barely managing to brace herself against the wall. Her legs had gone weak, like overcooked spaghetti.
She lost control.
How many people did she hurt?
Violet swallowed.
How many did she kill?
