Elena's Point Of View

The room was dim. Shadows stretched across the walls like quiet witnesses to the war between craving and contempt raging inside me.

I sat up slowly, staring down at him.

Though the lights were off, the amber hue of the streetlamp streaming through the window softly outlined his face. Sharp cheekbones. That proud, stubborn jawline. The curve of those lips that had once whispered promises into my skin, before they learned how to hurt instead.

I blinked down at ...