Alpha King Dimitrio.
My eyes snaps open as and I bolt upright in bed.
In a state of adrenaline and immediate remembrance as to what happened last night, my chest heaved as I take in my surroundings. Right at my nose, I can almost taste the faint smell of herbs still lingered in the air. My hand instinctively goes to my chest, finding not the raw wound I expected, but a smooth, bandaged area where my injury should have been.
With a swift motion, I tear away the bandage and my chest convulse, my breath catches in my throat as I see my skin beneath—no longer marred by the gaping wound, but healed, bearing only a faint, pink scar. By blood, my fury ignites.
“Melissa!” I hiss.
My eyes are blazing with fiery red as I scan my chambers but she is not here. Alone for a second, I feel a surge
