ALARIC POV
Night at Lycan Spirit Academy usually brings calm to the wolves, but there is no calm for the Sword Bearer, yes... me. The darkness only amplifies the storm raging inside my soul.
I stand behind a cold stone pillar, completely hidden on the balcony overlooking Dorian’s laboratory. My eyes track the shifting shadows inside that tightly curtained room. In there, “Reeve” is under that bastard alchemist’s hands.
And every second that passes makes my blood boil.
I can’t get Reeve out of my head. The sensation of his skin, too smooth beneath my fingers, and the faint trace of his scent haunt me again. It feels wrong, completely wrong, but I can’t deny that I—
“Get it together, Alaric! Why are you letting that filthy bastard touch what’s ours?” Orin snarls in the hollow of my mind
