The longer I stare into the mirror, the angrier I get.
Wren knows what Mother is like, and she still left me with her to go gallivant around the world with her slimeball new husband. I don’t know why I’m surprised, when she hasn’t been much of a sister for the past six months.
Ever since she got engaged to Marcus, Wren’s changed.
She’s always wearing one of those placid, fake smiles, just like the other socialites we swore we’d never be. She’s no longer wild and rebellious and her own person. Instead, she’s Marcus’s little yes woman, always agreeing with whatever bullshit he spews.
With her fancy new husband, Wren no longer has time for me. I can’t help but hate her a little for how she changed and abandoned me.
I no longer have anyone protecting me from Mother’s snide comments at the events I’m forced to attend. I no longer have someone to talk or laugh with. I no longer have my best friend to hope and dream about getting out of this place with.
And for what?
Some sleazy businessman my parents set her up with?
What about Cooper? The boy whose heart she ripped out and stomped on when she not only ended their engagement but also moved on immediately?
He’s a shell of himself, and she doesn’t even fucking care. Just like she doesn’t care about me or any of my problems. She’s too busy with her charmed life to care about any of the people she left behind.
Where the hell did my sister go?
“I was always there,” Wren’s voice whispers from behind me. “You just didn’t want to look too hard at it all, did you, Lulu?”
I whirl around to see my sister standing behind me, her face hollow and eyes empty. Splotchy bruises dot her arms, and her clothing is torn and dirty. I’m pretty sure I even see blood on her white linen pants.
I gasp at the state she’s in. Confused how she’s here, I ask, “Wren?”
“You were content to let me sacrificeeverythingfor you while you got to live a life I never did,” she replies, her voice scratchy and monotone. “While I was suffering for you, you were here, hating me. How could you be so selfish? How could you let me down like that?”
Before I can say anything, everything wavers and fades away, replaced with the day I found Wren. The day I learned just how wrong I had been. The day I realized just how much more Wren had loved me than herself.
I bolt upright, abruptly yanked from the dream, thankfully before I can start screaming her name.
My gaze darts around frantically, hoping none of the guys are awake to see me like this—silent tears streaming down my face, heaving breaths rattling my chest, and my limbs trembling uncontrollably.
All four of them are asleep, and I release a shaky breath of relief.
I had buried that memory of Wren’s honeymoon. Now that I remember it, I feel like an even bigger piece of shit than I normally do.
I was sitting in my cushy room, living my cushy life, complaining about how hard everything was while Wren was being raped over and over by a man she never wanted to marry. While I was going on and on about how she abandoned me, she was giving up everything to keep me from suffering the same fate.
It should’ve been me who had to marry him—not her. She was and always will be a better person than I’ll ever be.
If anyone deserved to end up in a loveless, abusive marriage, I did. It would’ve served me right for how damn self-centered I was.
“Little bird,” a deep voice calls, interrupting my spiraling thoughts.
My gaze snaps up and darts around the room until it lands on Azrael. He’s sitting in one of the pale blue armchairs opposite the bed. His huge frame is encased almost completely in shadows. Only his gold eyes reflect the moonlight filtering in through the curtains, making him look even more dangerous than usual.
“Come here,” Azrael quietly orders, probably not wanting to wake up the others any more than I do.
Weakened from the events hours earlier and my nightmare, I don’t have the will to fight him. Doing as he says, I carefully climb out of bed, moving slowly to avoid disturbing the guys.
Padding across the thick carpet, I stop when I’m in front of him. I stand there for a moment, uncertain of what I’m supposed to do before his large hands land on my waist. I swallow down my yelp of surprise as he tugs me onto his lap.
My legs fall open, and I straddle his powerful thighs. His black trousers are silky soft against the bare skin of my inner legs. His button-down is crisp as I clutch it in my fists to steady myself, wrinkling the expensive material.
I stare at him with wide eyes as I wait for him to say whatever it is he wanted to say. Part of me hopes he’ll lay into me like he did last night. It’s the least I deserve for how badly I let Wren down.
