Ash’s POV
I watched from the darkness as the Lycan's hand rested possessively on Lena's lower back, steering her through yet another political gathering. I felt sick at the casualness of the intimacy, my envy clenching me in a vice so tight I couldn’t breathe.
"She seems happy," I whispered to myself, despising the way the words tasted venomous on my lips.
And she did look happy. That was the worst part. In her place was the haunted, tortured girl that had buried herself against my chest whenever Godric's heartlessness became too difficult to handle. In her stead was a bright, glowing woman who walked with assurance, who laughed easily and looked upon her mate with real fondness.
"Enjoying the show?"
I tense as Beta Warren of the Moonstone pack approaches, his tone carefully neutral.
