The Darkest Angel
“This was her youngest sister’s wedding day. She should be happy. Delighted. If she were honest, though, she was a tiny bit—aka a lot—jealous. Gwen’s man loved her. Was proud of her.
Lysander considered Bianka unworthy.
She’d thought about proving herself to him, but had quickly discarded the idea. Proving herself worthy—his idea of worthy, that is—would entail nothing more than a lie. And Lysander hated lies. So, according to him, she would never be good enough for him. Which meant he was stupid, and she didn’t date stupid men. Plus, he didn’t deserve her.
He deserved to rot in his unhappiness. And that’s what he’d be without her. Unhappy. Or so she hoped.
“So much for our plan to go naked,” Kaia muttered beside her. “Gwen saw me leave my room that way and almost sliced my throat.”
“Did not,” the bride in question said from behind them.
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