*Rose*
I am still sniffling as I look at Tristan, who is looking at me with readable worry in his eyes. I know I look like a hot mess, and I can feel some watery mucus dripping from my nose. I grimace as I can imagine what he is thinking seeing me in such a state. Why am I worried about what I look like in the supposed comfort and privacy of my room?
What is he doing in my bedroom? Didn’t his mother teach him that girls’ rooms are a no-no for boys? Do I need a privacy signpost on my door now?
My frustration with Emily and the blabbering Mark is turning into rage, and I am afraid if I don’t get a grip on my emotions, I will take them out on Tristan. He is innocent… wait, scratch that. He is busy snooping in my room and thus is not innocent either.
“What are you doing in here, Alpha Tris
