Ronan's POV
I took another long swig of whiskey straight from the bottle, relishing the burn as it traveled down my throat. I'd lost count of how many drinks I'd had, but it wasn't nearly enough to dull the pain clawing at my chest.
"For Moon Goddess's sake, Ronan. That's not going to help anything."
Orion snatched the bottle from my hand. I didn't even have the energy to fight him for it.
"Nothing helps," I muttered, slumping deeper into my leather chair. "She doesn't know us, Orion. She thinks she's mated to that bastard Valerius."
"Don't you think I know that?" Orion snapped, his cool brown eyes flashing with barely contained anguish.
Across the room, Kaelen stared out the window, his back rigid with tension. He hadn't spoken more than a handful of words since leaving Seraphina's room. His silence was more concerning than my drinking or Orion's snappish temper.
"Maybe we deserve this," I said quietly. "After everything we did to her."
