Chapter Eighty-Six
Trina’s POV
The door opens soundlessly, revealing the room I stayed in the first time I arrived at the pack. Nothing has changed in here – still the dark dominating theme, but tainted with Anne’s scent, clinging on to every surface like she personally went through the pain of rubbing her clothes on them. She sits on the bed, her face immaculate and pretty, her red hair put up in a bun that should pass as messy but makes her look so elegant that I feel self-conscious in her presence, wearing just my hoodie.
It doesn’t end there.
Anne is dressed impeccably, like she went out for a fashion show or something, with her perfectly tailored and baggy slacks, a white dress inside with frills that runs halfway through the pants, a black jacket with gold accessories hanging on
