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“Baby?” Brilliant blue eyes lift and meet mine. All the excitement, all the hope and beauty of finally having her come to me evaporates in an instant. The deep ocean color of her gaze is wreathed in rage. A soul-deep anger that I’ve only ever seen in one other person on this Earth. Me.
At five years old, I wanted to marry Juliet Donovan. At nearly nineteen, I’d slit the throat of anyone who thinks to take her away from me.
I’m so fucking tired of being angry, of fighting. How much longer can I keep the facade up before it shatters?
