Esme
I sit on Aidan’s Edwardian sofa in what is now our chambers. The room is dimly lit by candles, their flickering flames casting shadows that dance on the velvet curtains. My eyes are fixed on the intricate patterns of the plush carpet beneath my feet, tracing the swirls with my gaze as if the answers to my fears are hidden within.
Aiden is sitting in an armchair nearby, a glass of crimson liquid swirling in his hand. His eyes are a piercing blue that could freeze the blood in a mortal’s veins and study me with concern.
When Aidan said he could show me what happened to the men who hurt me, I agreed. I want to know what my mate put those pigs through. But I need to get out what I hold inside first. I love Aidan for doing what he did. Even though he didn’t know the whole story of what
