I slammed my bedroom door shut, my palm still tingling from the impact against Seraphina's cheek. The look in her eyes haunted me—not the fear or hurt I'd expected, but something else. Something that made my stomach twist with an unfamiliar feeling.
Guilt.
"Fuck!" I hurled a nearby vase against the wall. It shattered, the pieces scattering across the floor like my control.
I'd hit her. Despite everything, despite all my hatred and resentment toward her, I never thought I'd physically strike her. My father had taught us better than that.
Dropping onto the edge of my bed, I buried my face in my hands. My wolf paced restlessly inside me, whining in distress. He'd been agitated since the moment my hand connected with Seraphina's cheek. Even he didn't approve.
*She deserved it,* I tried to convince myself. *After what she did to me. After how she humiliated me.*
But the justification rang hollow.
A knock at my door interrupted my thoughts. "Go away," I growled.
