Priscilla's POV
The haze that hung over my mind subsided. That awful ache in my head a memory. I felt a cold breeze against my shoulders, but a quilt enveloped me, keeping the chill away for the most part.
I felt disoriented. Why did my mouth taste like blood?
“I need a list of everyone that's had access to her room the past week. Servants. Delivery people. Purebloods. I don't care. Everyone," that was Wyatt's voice. What was he doing in my room?
My eyes fluttered open, seeing the green-eyed man direct another shifter out of the room. He stood in the doorway, and I watched him bury his face in his hands, giving the illusion that he was upset.
Of course, he was. I acted like a selfish b***h the last time that I saw him. That didn't explain why he was in my room.
I looked around for a
