“I’m not going to him,” I whispered finally, quieter now, speaking to my wolf, to myself, to the sky if it was listening. “Not like this. Not while I still smell like Connor. Not while I still hear his voice in my head every time I blink.”
“Come on, she purred inside my head. You know you’ve been thinking about him. His hands. His scent. The way he watches you like he already knows how you taste.
I flinched.
But she kept going.
Alex wouldn’t hurt you like Connor did, she whispered. He wouldn’t f**k you while the world burned and call it love. He’d take his time. He’d pin you down with those rough hands and ask if you wanted it while you were already moaning. He’d make you beg before he even kissed your neck.
“Stop,” I hissed out loud, squeezing my eyes shut as the rain poured harder,
