ROSETTE’S POV
Zavien flung her away from him with a sound of pure revulsion.
Elena hit the marble floor, but she was laughing as she fell — actually laughing, bright and delighted, like this was the most fun she’d had in years.
She landed in a sprawl of red satin and silver hair, champagne from a passing waiter’s tray spilling across her dress, and she didn’t even try to get up.
She just lay there on the cold marble, giggling up at the crystal chandeliers, blood trickling from where his claws had nicked her throat.
“There you are,” she breathed, touching the blood and bringing her fingers to her lips to taste it. “There’s my wolf. I knew he was still in there somewhere.”
I was already walking away.
“Rosette, wait.”
I didn’t. My feet propelled me faster by the second.
His hand caug
