POV: Alaric
Fucking bitch!
I thought she was dead or something.
Why didn't she stay wherever the fuck she just crawled out from?
Rage curled through my muscles like a vice, my fingers twitching as I fastened my seatbelt.
"Alaric… You have to breathe… You are too tense," Jasmine said from beside.
I had booked the next available flight back to New York the second Rian sent that cursed message. Of all the goddamn problems circling me like vultures, Karina was the one I needed to deal with first.
"Alaric. What's going on? You can talk to us," June asked. Her hand reached toward mine, and I recoiled like she was some disease-ridden mutt.
Instead, I grabbed Jasmine's hand, the one resting idly on the armrest between us. It squeezed, drawing in the warmth of her skin. Instantly, the chaos in my head steadied—just a little.
She calmed the storm in me always.
