Demien lay sprawled on the king-sized bed in his dimly lit guest suite, but sleep was nowhere near. The ceiling above him blurred in his vision as he blinked at it repeatedly, hoping exhaustion would pull him under. It didn’t. The silence in the room was loud, almost mocking—like it was in league with the thoughts tormenting his mind.
The events from earlier that evening wouldn’t stop replaying in his head. Melissa—standing there at the edge of the staircase, surrounded by wolves. Her face was pale, her lips trembling, her confusion painted so clearly in her eyes. She didn’t understand what was happening—she had no idea what kind of fire she had been thrown into by marrying Alec Blackwood.
And Demien couldn’t forget the way Justin spoke to her.
Disgust coiled in his chest.
He turned on
