Alaric's POV
My eyelids felt like lead weights as exhaustion crashed over me. The papers strewn across my mahogany desk swam together, words blurring into meaningless shapes. A deafening bang snapped me awake as something crashed into my desk.
My future bride loomed over me, rage pouring off her small frame in waves. Roxanne's amber eyes burned with fury, her black hair whipping around her waist like a dark storm. The sight that used to turn me on now just pissed me off.
"Were you listening to a single word I said?" Roxanne's voice sliced through the air like a blade.
I pressed my hands against my tired eyes, trying to rub away the exhaustion that lived there permanently. "No. Sorry, but I—"
"I get it—I wasn't your first pick for a wife," Roxanne cut me off, poison dripping from every word. "But you could at least fake giving a damn about our future."
