ALLE
Sleep's not happening tonight.
Again.
I've been lying here for hours, staring at the ceiling, and all I can see is Benedicta's hand on Winter's shoulder. The casual f*****g intimacy of it. The way he tilted his head toward her like she was saying something important, something worth listening to.
I hate that I care.
Hate the mate bond clawing at my insides, demanding I go down there and rip her hand off him, stake some ridiculous territorial claim I have no right to feel.
Eventually I give up on sleep entirely and wander the estate because at least moving keeps me from punching more walls. The guards are used to me by now—most of them just nod when I pass, some even step aside without being asked.
Progress, I guess.
Or they're just tired of dealing with my s**t.
I end up in
