Modric’s POV
“Has she touched you?”
Velvera’s question hung between us.
For one terrible second, all I could think about was Mary Ann’s mouth beneath mine.
Her fingers tangled in my hair.
Her soft body pressed against me.
The way she had kissed me back before slapping me hard enough to leave my cheek burning.
Twice.
My wolf stirred at the memory.
I forced my expression to remain blank.
“No.”
The answer came easily.
Too easily.
Velvera studied me, her green eyes narrowing as though she could hear the lie in the silence that followed.
“Nothing has happened?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
I did not mention the reluctant kiss at the wedding ceremony.
I did not mention the second kiss in the side room, the one that had begun as anger and turned into something I still could not control
