Tanya’s POV
Laughter.
It followed me out of the ballroom, through the double doors, down the marble steps… and into the night as it wrapped around my throat like smoke.
And then my eyes snapped open.
The ceiling above me was rough wood, not carved plaster. No chandeliers, polished marble or gold trim. Just the low roof of the barracks in the Crimson Pack territory, shadowed by the faint glow of moonlight spilling in through the narrow window.
The sound of my pulse was the only thing in the room I could hear.
I sat up slowly, the thin blanket sliding down to my waist. My skin was damp, my chest felt tight with my breathing coming out short and shallow… like I’d been running.
Except I hadn’t.
I could still feel the taste of it in my mouth.
The rejection. The disgrace. The laughter.
