Meadow’s POV:
The moment I saw Alaric’s mother, it automatically made sense that her sons were so damn attractive.
Ingrid Ashford was the epitome of elegance and beauty. Her blond hair was pulled back into a bun—something told me she hardly ever let it fall—her eyes a striking blue color that looked exactly like Nolan’s.
She glided toward us in a blue dress that went all the way down, her cheekbones high as she smiled at a few guests.
All of a sudden, I forgot how to breathe.
Alaric must’ve somehow noticed how tense I was, because his arm came to rest on my lower back and he pulled me closer to him.
“Relax, baby,” he murmured into my ear, sending a fresh wave of chill down my spine.
“I can’t,” I said through gritted teeth. “You didn’t tell me she was this… intimidating.”
How coul
