A Nightstand With An Alpha
“O-our parents are dead, Lila! Dead! And you’re here, spreading your legs for my boyfriend?”
My voice broke, and the room swam with tears.
Thorne swung his legs off the chaise, standing with no shame, tugging his trousers up lazily, as if I wasn’t even worth the effort of a guilty glance.
“I know very well what’s going on out there, Celeste,” he spat, his eyes glinting with something I couldn’t name resentment, maybe, or disgust. “You killed them.”
My breath hitched. “What?”
“You killed your parents,” he barked, stepping closer, his finger stabbing the air toward me. “On your birthday, no less. Because you’re cursed, Celeste. Cursed.”
Bab Populer