His Alpha Brother Is My Bedfellow
A moment later, the door opened.
Jasmine stood there. She was dressed for bed in a silk robe, her hair loose around her shoulders, and makeup still perfect even though it was the middle of the night. The practiced mask of the arrogant princess was firmly in place—until her eyes landed on me, held firmly by Jayson, my face bloody and stained with dirt and despair.
The mask shattered.
Her eyes flew wide. Her mouth opened in a tiny, silent ‘o’ of pure, unguarded shock. She looked from my broken face to Lucas’s triumphant one, and the her black eyes turned to frantic, dawning understanding. She’d been caught.