Soren’s hand moved, as his fingers picked a strand of my gold hair.
“Do I look like your killer little mate?” His low voice came, filled with an edge of thickness.
My breath hitched as I stared through those beautiful pools of red eyes. And only now did I notice the small flecks of gold on his iris. Almost the same glittering gold as my hair. “Yes.”
“I’m not,” he said finally, but he must have seen the mistrust in my eyes because he continued.
“If I were to be the one who attacked them— no one would have found their body.
I would have finished the job cleanly,” he muttered.
If there’s one thing I knew, then it was that Soren was right. If he had been their attacker, he would have killed them and not left them barely breathing.
But if he was not their attacker, then who was?
I ba
