The Tyrant Alpha's Secret Reborn Queen

ry

the velvet bed, the sc

, searching for the wound. For the tearing flesh, the hot gu

was no

th, unbro

ainst my ribs like a trapped bird. The air was thick, too hea

ough the floor-to-ceiling windows. I flin

-colored walls, the ornate white vanity with its s

My bedroom from

king the air from my lungs. I wasn't dead. I was

at the door

h a pitcher of water and a glass. Her brow was furrowed with a gentle co

ce a ghost from a life I thought was o

ed tears and unspoken fury. For one traitorous second, my voice wavered-a sliver

d Miss Kaila are waiting for you in the great hall," she added,

on.

his bed-two betrayers waiting downstai

ehind my eyes: Kaila's triumphant smirk, Bryson's cold, dismissive eyes as he rej

nuckles were white. The sharp points of my nails dug into my

hate down. I felt it settle somewhere deep-not extingui

scraped against my throat like chipped ice. "Go to my ward

The red one, miss? But you always say it's too bold. Yo

ut of bed. The floorboards were cool beneath my bare

ace unmarred by grief and betrayal. There were no dark circles under her eyes, no permanent frown etched be

ey were old, cold, and burning with a

I took it from her, the silk cool and heavy in my hands. I dismissed her help with a wave

long, dark hair and twisted it into a simple, severe knot at the

ipstick. Not a soft pink or a demure nude. It was a stark, blood-red. I applied it slowly,

her eyes wide with a mixture of

d for her. I said

aught on the small mahogany chest at the back of my closet-the one with the tarnished lock. Mother's. A cold p

bring my cousin Kaila to our home to privately ask me to s

hetic, clinging to a bond that he had already defiled. My weakness had made

different. This tim

against the polished hardwood of the hallway, a sharp, rhyt

the grand, curving

rifted up to me. Bryson's, laced with an impatient ar

, Kaila. It's just a

is is hard for her.

e of nausea through me. I gripped the banist

t. They were sitting together on the main sofa, his arm draped casually around her s

e the marble floor at the bottom

ds snap

and for a fleeting second, a flicker of stunned

o a thin line, and a flash of pure, venomous jealousy darkened her eyes

ingle armchair opposite them, the one my mother used t

uirm under my unblinking gaze. Finally, I r

I didn't need to. "To what do I owe t