Chapter 25: The White Wolf

Priscilla’s POV

The haze that hung over my mind subsided. That awful ache in my head a memory. I felt a cold breeze against my shoulders, but a quilt enveloped me, keeping the chill away for the most part.

I felt disoriented. Why did my mouth taste like blood?

“I need a list of everyone that’s had access to her room the past week. Servants. Delivery people. Purebloods. I don’t care. Everyone,” that was Wyatt’s voice. What was he doing in my room?

My eyes fluttered open, seeing the green-eyed man direct another shifter out of the room. He stood in the doorway, and I watched him bury his face in his hands, giving the illusion that he was upset.

Of course, he was. I acted like a selfish bitch the last time that I saw him. That didn’t explain why he was in my room.

I looked around for a moment, realizing that we weren’t in my room. I was in Wyatt’s room. He had a few articles of clothing draped over a chair nearby. I only knew because it smelled so much like him.