“If it isn’t Elena Denvers!” The familiar voice made me stumble, nearly dropping the delicate packages I’d just picked up from the boutique. I looked up, startled, and found Tristan standing in front of me, his grin wide, his eyes glinting with amusement.
“Tristan!” I exclaimed, a surge of warmth sweeping through me despite the whirlwind of thoughts that had been clouding my mind lately.
He stepped closer, his gaze raking over me with a scrutiny that seemed both playful and concerned. “How are you?” he asked, a teasing note in his voice.
“I should be the one asking you that… After everything.” His words hung in the air, and I felt a sudden chill. The memories of Mason and the mark on my neck resurfaced, pulling my attention away from Tristan’s ever-present grin.
“Mason bit me,” I said,
