Zyna’s POV

No matter how hard I tried to force myself, I could sleep anymore.

If I thought I couldn't hate Damon anymore than I already did, I was sorely mistaken.

He sank into a deeper place than hell, on my charts.

I stood in front of my dressing mirror, admiring how much my stomach had begun to pop. I smiled as I rubbed the gentle bump, knowing that I'd never be able to work that one out. Not in seven months at least.

“Can I talk to you about earlier?” I asked, entering his room without knocking.

“What do you think?” He asked, looking up from some paperwork sprawled...