Book 2: Regrets

Estrella

‘My room!’ Castor shouted through the mind-link. ‘Now!’

I turned and sprinted out of the solarium without a second thought, leaving the party behind. 

I hurtle down the halls of Solberg Castle, the veil of my wedding dress flapping behind me like a broken wing, without a thought in my mind but Anwen and the debilitating pain in my chest. He went after the assassin without me, and he got hurt. If he dies—

My bite burns like wildfire. My wolf screams. I cannot think like that.

I slide up to Castor’s door and find it already slightly ajar. My heart hammers in my throat as I push it open.

Anwen squats beside Castor’s couch, his hands, arms, and right side covered in blood. He looks up at me as I enter. There is no true pain in his blue eyes, only concern.

He’s uninjured. Or at least, not terribly injured. I will evaluate the little aches later. As the taut anxiety releases in my shoulders, I take in the rest of the