Priscilla's POV
“I can't do it, Wyatt," I mumbled, exhaustion making my shoulders slack as my anxiety ran its course. All that was left was resentment towards myself. I can't believe I actually agreed to kill Oriana if it all went south.
Two sets of gnashing teeth against my soul. One cried out for the greater good. The betterment of all. The other selfishly refused because Oriana was family. The conflicting feelings crashed into one another, swarming into this ball of anxiety that clutched my heart.
I didn't want to feel comfort as I looked up at Wyatt. I didn't want to let my guard down, but it came crashing down around me as if I had no control over it. He gazed down at me, eyes analyzing me as one of his hands cupped the side of my face.
Why did it have to feel like that? Like he
