Morana scoffed, looking at both the men. "You really expect me to believe you? After you killed Jackson?" "We haven't killed you," Tristan Caine spoke softly, his eyes hard, dangerous, the look in them sending a shiver down her spine. She tried to think of him as just Tristan but couldn’t. He wasn’t Tristan to her; he was Tristan Caine and her brain had started to obsess about the name now.
