Elena’s POV
Bryson took a quick step back while my eyes remained on Prince Deacon, whose eyes had traveled down to my wrist, which had a mild mark from Bryson’s tightened grip.
His jaws clenched into anger as he raised his hand and gently touched the marks on my wrist. Looking deep into my eyes, he asked, “Are you okay?”
I shook my head and gave a small smile. “I’m fine. It’s nothing.”
Still not letting go of my wrist, he turned his head sharply at Bryson. “Is the mess you and your wife had done not enough that you are making a fuss here now?”
Bryson’s earlier fury against me had momentarily faltered, but the intensity of his eyes was still there.
In disbelief, he asked, “Prince Deacon, you can’t seriously be siding with her. Glenda needs us—”
Prince Deacon stood before him and cut
