I had retreated to my chambers to clean myself up, because frankly, I smelled of animal blood, frozen mud, and wet dog.
Even though my wolf had completely ghosted me again—disappearing back into the dark recesses of my mind like an ex-lover who suddenly goes radio silent—the feral aftershocks were still lingering in my jaw. I couldn't stop biting things. I was sitting there, aggressively devouring piece after piece of fruit just to keep my teeth occupied.
And then, I saw them.
Once again, he hadn't come to bed tonight. We were still sleeping in separate chambers, a cold wall of unspoken tension dividing us. He hadn't come... but he was down there.
