Daphne's POV
"You owe your life to me." His tone carried a casual lightness that made my skin crawl, steel hiding beneath the pleasant surface. Xander stepped deeper into the room, hands tucked casually in his pockets. "I'd recommend adjusting that attitude and dropping the hostile stare. Gratitude would serve you better."
Gratitude? This arrogant bastard expected me to thank him?
The suggestion clawed at something raw inside my chest. I forced myself upright, my body screaming in protest. "How exactly should I feel grateful when I've been stripped of everything?"
His head cocked to one side, examining me like some specimen he'd already dissected. "Stripped is infinitely preferable to buried."
"Says who?" The words ripped from my throat. "Is it really?"
"Your mother and grandmother would have opinions on that. Why don't you ask them?"
I didn't need their answer. The tension radiating from Mother's rigid shoulders and her inability to look me in the eye told me everything.
