Lark: Hello, Luna. My name is Laz. I apologize for listening in on your conversation with Ms. Bianchi. It was rude of me. And I’m sorry for commandeering your friend’s phone to send this message. However, “hate” is a strong word, and I feel the need to correct it.
Lark: I don’t “hate” Aurora. I admire her. I’m obsessed with her. And I’m rather certain I’m in love with her. She’s strong, independent, and intelligent. She’s also beautiful and not afraid to stand up to the pack. The first time we met, actually, she pulled a gun on me.
Lark: Anyway, I just want you to know I don’t “hate” her. I’ve clearly messed up, though. So I’m going to work on fixing that. If Aurora doesn’t call you later, it’s because I’ve occupied her time. Please forgive her. And thank you for understanding. Hopefully, we’ll meet properly soon. —Laz
I blink as I reread the second message, where he says he’s in love with me.
My lip trembles, the taste of his blood still on my tongue.
How can he send these messages after everything that’s happened with my brother? He didn’t let me join the pack meeting. He made it pretty clear he was furious with Giovanni and that he assumed I was working with my brother to hurt Johan.
Yet he wants to tell my friend he loves me?
“This doesn’t make any sense,” I mutter, throwing my phone down. “And you arenotgetting away from me that easily, Lazarus Ferraro.”
I stomp off after him, determined to talk to him. To fix this. To… to dosomething.
Apologize, maybe.
Demand a reciprocated claim, also maybe.
Perhaps both.
Or neither.
I don’t know.
But when I find him, I’ll figure it out.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
LARK
The next timeI see Lazarus, I’m going to kill him.
He left.
Left.
As in, vacated the estate.
And I have no idea where the fuck he went.
That was two days ago.
If he’s punishing me for biting him, then consider me properly reprimanded.
Noah and Johan haven’t told me anything useful. When I found them in the gym the other day, they said Lazarus stated that he needed to handle something.
That’s it.
No elaboration.
The only thing I’ve been able to confirm is that “something” has nothing to do with Giovanni. Johan promised me that. But he wouldn’t give me any additional details.
So I refused to let him and Noah stay in my room that night.
And again last night, too.
