Arlene's POV
Despite layering concealer and full-coverage foundation, the raised welts on my neck remain stubbornly visible. Each mark tells the story of last night's intensity, when something primal had seized Warner and nearly torn him apart from within. The bathroom mirror reflects my futile attempts at concealment as I prepare for tonight's dinner with Warner's parents.
Lorelei appears in the doorway, her eyes immediately drawn to the evidence decorating my throat.
"Damn," she breathes, studying the marks while I examine them through my reflection.
"I know this was a mistake. But whatever was happening to him, it felt like his soul was being shredded from the inside out." My hands grip the marble sink as the memory resurfaces, that desperate hunger in his eyes that had both terrified and thrilled me.
