He’d watched her all week, as per Wolf’s orders, watched her so she had no idea she was being watched, and he’d wished hard for that chance. He’d come over that night, hoping against hope for that chance; or maybe just a chance at a chance. And for a few minutes there, when she’d been holding Keira and watching Scars pour the wine, and she’d had that soft, unguarded look again, he’d thought that maybe he’d be able to beg, borrow, and steal a chance. Even a small one.
But the mask was firmly back in place now – and his shaky, wavering chance had just evaporated like the dawn mist.
Goddammit, Zoe. I’m not a monster. Just see me, the way I see you. Look with better eyes, baby, I beg of you.
“Well?” she snapped, keeping her voice low so that Keira didn’t hear her anger. “Your usual easy lay
