Alpha Alexander’s POV
I told them I was going to the parlor to wait for Stefan. It was a small lie one of many I’d learned to tell. The camera was in place; I could have watched and listened from the suite. Instead I leaned against the study doorframe, pretending to be casual while the conversation inside sharpened like a blade.
Stefan’s voice tight, incredulous cut through the hush. He raged about tattoos and running away, about what the human world had done to his daughter. I watched him explode with the smug righteousness of a man who believed offenses could be measured by appearances.
He didn’t see what I saw in Vanessa. He never had. I had watched those tattoos bloom into the only honest map she’d ever allowed on her skin. I loved them every broken line and secret glyph. They were
