Zevander looked at me as if I were something more than the disparaging word that’d been hammered into me since I was found by the edge of the woods: unwanted. Lorn. He looked at me as if I was worthy of being seen. The emotion sank its teeth into me, and I turned away from him, willing myself to hold back the tears that would surely destroy this moment between us. “You look like a goddess right now,” he whispered, burying his face in my neck, kissing me.
