Rory's POV
“You need to know something about her,” Briar said suddenly.
The words landed like sharply. I felt them vibrate through the air, cold, meant for Damien but crafted to slice through me.
My throat tightened. What does she mean?
Her eyes glittered as she clung even tighter to Damien’s arm, like she was branding herself there, claiming him with every fingernail pressed into his sleeve. She wasn’t looking at him, though. She was looking at me. Her gaze darted mischievously, like a child about to break her rival’s favorite toy.
I swallowed hard, every nerve in my body bracing for the blow.
“During the time she attacked me at school that day,” Briar began, her voice sweet but laced with venom, “I happened to pick a few strands of her hair. I gave it to my Dad to look at.”
My st
