Marek’s POV
Esme had slipped out hours ago, dressed in dark jeans and a hoodie pulled low over her face like she didn’t want anyone to recognize her. I’d watched her go from the doorway, heart in my throat, because I knew that look. That was the look of someone walking into a trap they couldn’t see yet. And I knew exactly who had set it.
Nolan.
He’d come to the room earlier, all fake smiles and quiet threats, and whatever he’d whispered in her ear had been enough to send her running into the night.
I wanted to chase after her, drag her back, lock the door and throw away the key until I figured out what fresh hell he’d cooked up. But Lior had been curled against my side, breathing soft and trusting, and I couldn’t leave him. Not with Nolan prowling the halls like a wolf circling wounde
