Third person pov( Maeve)
The medical wing was too quiet, the air smelling of forced recovery and tension. Maeve sat on the edge of the bed, the silk robe Aria had brought her feeling like a second skin.
She wasn't the broken girl they thought she was. Julian had taught her many things while she was "under", the most important being that in a house full of Alphas, the one who whispers the loudest is the one who eventually leads.
The door creaked open. It wasn't Aria this time.
It was Cassian. He looked like a man who had been put through a meat grinder. His shirt was wrinkled, his eyes were bloodshot, and he carried the heavy, intoxicating scent of bourbon mixed with the lingering perfume of the girl he’d just kissed in the garden.
"You should be resting," he said, his voice a
