LYRA’S POV
His words were like slaps. I stared at him, my mouth open. “Begging for it? Are you serious? I was working! I was going to change!”
“You’re always working it!” he snapped, closing the distance between us. He loomed over me, his heat surrounding me. “You jump on every man who looks at you twice! You seduce them with those eyes, that body, that… that act of being so damn vulnerable! You did it to me. You’re doing it to my brothers. And now you’re doing it to every drunk i***t in this club! When does it stop? When do you take some goddamn responsibility for the fire you’re playing with?”
The accusation hung in the air. It was so wrong, so ugly, it stole my breath. He was blaming me. For everything. For the bullying. For the drunk. For his own hunger. For their collective obsessi
