The bedroom door flew open, hitting the wall with a heavy thud that rattled the frames hanging beside it. Demetrius stood on the threshold, his chest heaving, his dark hair disheveled from his frantic sprint across the Stronghold grounds. His eyes were completely black, his Lycan entirely on the surface, radiating a terrifying, suffocating aura of pure, protective fury. He looked like a god of war looking for a target.
But before he could fully step into the room, before he could even utter a single word, I crossed the distance between us.
I threw myself at him, my arms wrapping tightly around his neck as I buried my face into his chest. The dam broke all over again. The fragile composure I had managed to scrape together with Eloise vanished the second I felt his familiar, solid warmth.
