Alaric’s POV:

Meadow had blood running from her nostril and forehead, and even when I glanced at her hair, I could see something dark tinting the already dark length.

The smell of her blood was going to haunt me for a long fucking time.

She was limp in my arms, her cheeks pressed against my chest, her breaths too fucking shallow. I held her like she was made of porcelain, because if I didn’t—I’d snap the other way.

And kill someone.

What the hell did they do to my baby ...