Her eyes searched mine like she wanted to find a better answer there and hated me for not having one. Then she looked away first, and f**k, I hated that too, because she didn’t look dramatic or shattered or furious enough for me to hide behind her anger anymore.
She looked tired.
Like I had added weight to a woman who already carried too much.
“I need to breathe,” she said.
“I know.”
“Alone.”
Oliver slammed into my ribs so hard I almost moved.
‘Fix it. Kneel. Make her understand.’ he begged in my head.
As if I didn’t want to.
But there was no fixing this by force, no touching the right place, no saying the right word, no wolf magic powerful enough to undo the fact that I had given her comfort with one face and desire with another.
I locked my knees.
“Okay.”
Her eyes came back
