Bab 58: CHAPTER 57

CHLORENDIA

I stared at myself in the mirror, or at least what was left of me. My breath hitched as I ran my fingers over the bruise that bloomed across my cheek, purples and blues painting my once-flawless skin. A shallow cut just beneath my eye caught the light, mocking me with every small movement. Blood had dried there, its rust-red streak a permanent reminder of my failure.

Failure.

The word burned in my chest like acid, twisting my stomach into knots.

I had let my guard down.

"Alaric," I hissed, the name spilling from my lips like venom. That bastard. He had claimed it was a test, some sick way of "proving my worth." But it wasn't a test. It was an attack. A deliberate, calculated ambush by a male who had no business leading a pack, let alone ruling one.