Emmett dropped to his knees in the center of Amy's bedroom, fully aware that he was not supposed to be in this wing of the Cottage, let alone standing there, but his resistance to the pull of his destined mate was failing. His beast wasn't helping matters.
Amy winced when his knees hit the ground with a thunk. She knew first hand that the rugs piled over the stone did little to cushion anything.
Without looking up from her backpack, Emily asked, "What are you doing here, Emmett?" She could barely manage a whisper as she fought with Ember to stay still, to not look at him, or tackle him as would probably be the case if they moved at all.
"I," he began, but his mouth was suddenly dryer than the Mojave. He tried to swallow and felt his Adams apple crunch. "I can't fight it," he tried agai
