Almas pov
It's been three weeks since I last saw Santiago and the pups….I'm staring out the window, and I know mom will come up soon and try to make me eat or drink like she doesn't already know I don't need it.
The soft, muffled footsteps and sights. I don’t want to talk to her, she hasn’t asked me anything, but I know she knows, what happened, cause the same thing happened to her before she f*****g fled with me inside her.
“Hey, honey….” She smiles when she walks inside, and I don’t turn around. I don’t care about anything. I feel cursed for being born, mated with Santiago, and getting knocked up again by my own father. Santiago is never going to want to touch me ever again. I saw his face when he saw the marks on my neck and collarbone, and he was disgusted by me and everything else.
