Evie’s POV
The next morning, I’m roused from a dreamless slumber—most of my nights have been dreamless since my wolf left me, other than some foul nightmares—by the sound of pounding at my door.
I spring to my feet, then glance frantically around the room for some sort of object to defend myself. Neither Ty, Kipp, nor Ian has consented to my actually possessing a weapon yet; I’m only allowed to use them during sessions. I settle for the poker leaning against the hearth before treading carefully over to the door and shouting, “Who is it?”
“It’s me.”
I groan, then set the poker down in annoyance and reach to unlock the door.
Ty doesn’t look good. He looks like he didn’t get a lick of sleep last night. His dark hair is messy and tangled, and there are red bags under his eyes.
Is he here
