Claire's POV
"Are you sober now?" I asked as Evander stepped out of the bathroom, a towel draped loosely around his neck and wearing a robe that made him look sexier just as I remembered him from the past.
"Yeah," he replied softly, sitting on the edge of the bed with his head bowed as he avoided my gaze.
I crossed my arms, trying to keep my voice steady. "Why weren't you answering your phone? Where is everyone? Where is Eliam? And why was the house so dark? What is going on here, Evander?"
I hadn't come to bombard him with questions, but seeing him like this—so lost and lifeless—it scared me. My heart ached in a way I couldn't describe.
