The world snapped back into place with a violent lurch.
Noise crashed into me first. Laughter. Music. Clinking glasses. Wolves talking over one another.
I sucked in a sharp breath.
The time loop restarting.
Again.
My heels were planted on polished marble. My fingers wrapped around a cold bottle of champagne. My hair—black, sleek, unfamiliar—fell over my shoulders. The dress clung to me.
I downed the champagne in one go. The burn hit my throat, but I didn't care. I slammed the bottle down on a nearby table and marched straight through the crowd, ignoring the stares. No waiting for speeches. No mingling. Straight to Devon's room.
I pushed open the door to his bedroom without knocking. The light flicked on under my hand. I paced for a second, then sat on the edge of his bed, legs crossed, waiting.
The door opened.
Devon halted in the doorway.
