Mia's POV
The cookie turned to ash in my mouth as reality crashed back in. What was I doing? Someone like Tristan - handsome, kind, obviously powerful - wouldn't waste time on someone like me unless he wanted something.
My stepbrothers' voices echoed in my head: Weak. Worthless. Nothing but a toy to play with.
They were right. Why else would he be here? Four alphas - my own mates - couldn't even stand me. What made me think this stranger was different?
I pushed back from the table abruptly, my chair scraping against the floor. "I should go."
"Mia?" Tristan's hand caught my wrist gently. "What's wrong?"
"Don't." I pulled away, hugging my sketchbook to my chest like armor. "You don't have to pretend anymore."
His brow furrowed. "Pretend what?"
"That you want to be here. That you care
