Jasper’s POV

The bastard marked her.

I stood by the cracked window of the old manor house, fists clenched so hard my knuckles popped. Snow drifted outside, peaceful and slow, like the world didn’t know it had just betrayed me.

She let him mark her.

I stared down at the bottle in my hand. Half-empty bourbon. I’d been nursing it since Estrella brought me the news. Now it just tasted like ash.

"You’re quiet," she said behind me. Her tone was cautious, like she knew any wrong word might set ...