Irene's POV
I woke up thinking about the kiss again for like the third morning in a row.
A mistake, huh? That's what Yin had called it. A mistake. Like I was some random girl he'd accidentally locked lips with at a tavern, not his actual wife who slept in the same bed as him every single night.
I rolled over, burying my face in the pillow that still smelled faintly of him. Sandalwood and something darker, more masculine. When had I started noticing what he smelled like? When had I started caring?
"You're falling for him, you absolute idiot." A tiny voice said. "You're in love you stupid girl."
No, I wasn't. I couldn't be. This was Yin. The vampire who'd essentially bought me from my father to settle debts. The man who'd forced me into marriage without asking what I wanted.
My captor, not my... not my anything.
