Chapter 97

Farren's Point of View

We drove in silence through the city, except for when Tristan decided he was a singer by trade. A very fucking poor one.

The bright afternoon light stung the backs of my eyes as it bounced off of the tall buildings. Shiny glass. Produced tears on my lower lids. Or maybe that was just my fear settling in. Making a home in my heart right next to sadness.

These men had murdered my mate's father. They had also killed my mother's mate. If it hadn't been for them, I wouldn't be alive right now.

Would never have known this world. Somehow, I wished that could have been the case. That their plot all those years ago had failed and I was left to drift in oblivion. Although, they had succeeded and now I was forced to listen to Tristan's horrible singing.

"Can you please stop that?" I growled at him. Irritation had also made itself known within my chest. Not at the situation but at Tristan who could see my jaw tightening with anger yet he continued on with his tragic voice.