Alexander’s POV
I splashed cold water on my face, bracing my hands against the edges of the porcelain sink until my knuckles turned white. The water dripped from my chin, staining the silk of my tie, but I didn’t care. I just stared at my reflection in the gilded mirror, searching for a crack in the mask.
The man looking back at me seemed composed. His hair was ordered, his expression steady, and his eyes a dark, impenetrable brown.
But beneath the skin, the Wolf was pacing a frantic, jagged line, clawing at the back of my throat.
Lies, Titus snarled, his voice vibrating against my ribs. The Dragon lies. The Tiger lies. The Mate is clean.
“She’s clean,” I whispered to the empty room, engaging in the futile exercise of trying to convince myself. “She’s perfect.”
But the weight of the
