AURELIA'S POV
“You don’t need them, babe. Not a single one of those emotionally constipated Alphas,” Cecil huffed, tugging me tighter into the blanket around our shoulders.
Her painted nails clicked against the mug of cocoa she’d made for both of us. We sat on the bed, soft fairy lights casting a warm glow over the room, and her presence was the only thing keeping me from spiraling.
“I hate that they get under my skin,” I whispered, curling into her side. “I should be over it. Over them.”
“Nope. You're allowed to be pissed, hurt, confused—and sexy while doing it.” She kissed my cheek. “But you don’t owe anyone forgiveness. Especially not men who gamble your name like it’s a damn poker chip.”
I gave a watery laugh. “You always make it sound so easy.”
Cecil pulled back, brows raised. “
