Meadow’s POV:

Alaric’s words hit harder than any hangover ever could.

I blinked up at him, the panic in my chest escalating. “No, no. That’s not—We didn’t…”

I started to stutter, but the soft ding of the doorbell stopped me short.

“That must be room service,” he muttered, throwing me one last smirk before he strode toward the door, shutting it behind him.

Leaving me all alone in the room with the billion questions and wheels that were turning in my head.

I raised my ...