Daphne's POV
Sleep eluded me completely.
I remained sprawled across my bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling, watching darkness dance and shift as time dragged forward. The sting from Mother's slap still pulsed against my cheek. My bandaged hands ached with each heartbeat. Yet these physical wounds paled beside the fury writhing through my chest like a serpent.
Trapped. Locked away like some criminal. In my own bedroom. In my own pack territory.
The irony should have amused me, but laughter felt impossible. Each breath scraped down my throat like broken glass. Orion's image haunted every moment—his tender smile, his gentle caress, the adoration in his gaze just before he shattered my world into pieces.
I shifted restlessly from side to back to side again. The familiar comfort of my mattress now felt foreign and wrong.
By three in the morning, I abandoned any hope of rest.
