“There must be some mistake.” Margot spoke through gritted teeth. Every syllable was punctuated by her nails digging deeper into my arm. “No.” Father’s voice was a boom, rattling the walls. A growl, raw and ravenous, ripped from Mae’s throat. Then came Banner’s declaration of the obvious. “She is my fiancée.” And a laugh. Gravelly. Low. Dry and humorless. I blinked, forcing my vision into focus, homing in on that laugh. The Guardian. He was laughing. His silver eyes flashed white like lightning, and the smirk on his mouth stretched.
Oh no! Not good
