Lulu's p.o.v.
Damien stole my notebook. The notebook I write my songs in. The notebook I had with me since Tomas died.
That asshole.
How do I know it’s him? Because I’m not an i***t. I’ve looked f*****g everywhere at the packhouse. I had to clean my room—twice—to get into all the corners. I’ve got blisters on my palms to prove it. My knees are chafed from kneeling and fishing out clothes hiding under my bed.
I still didn’t find my tiny red spiral-bound notebook.
It's been two weeks since I am living in the packhouse. Things are the same. Draven is still avoiding our mating bond, Irene is still avoiding him. Sir Daniel is still kicking my ass in training.
And Damien. Ha! He is only good at one thing, glaring. So he is still trying to kill me with his glares. Though, he never aske
