The morning sun hit the mirror with the subtlety of a blinding flashbang, illuminating Kaia's neck in high definition.
"Shit," she whispered, leaning closer to the glass. "Shit, shit, double shit."
The damage was extensive.
First, there was the bite mark from the carriage ride two days ago. It had darkened from a violent violet to a sickly, greenish-yellow bruise that looked remarkably like she had been attacked by a very passionate vampire.
But right next to it—fresh, angry, and distinct—was a new mark.
It was roughly the size of a thumbprint. Specifically, the thumb of a Crown Prince who had lost his mind in a greenhouse eight hours ago and gripped her neck for leverage while he devoured her.
"He is treating my neck like a canvas," Kaia hissed, touching the tender skin. "A golden, polished cannibal who wants to ruin me by connecting the dots."
