Cierra:
The air in my room still tasted like rain and regret and the fiery hot taste of Dane’s lips.
It clung to me, damp and restless, as I peeled off my jacket and stared at the reflection in the mirror above the sink.
The girl who looked back wasn’t someone I recognized. Her eyes were too sharp, too old. The faint shimmer of gold that sometimes flickered there—the wolf’s light—was gone, hollowed out to ash.
That silence inside me wasn’t peace. It was an absence. Despite her return, my wolf seemed different and the absence of that gold was just a reminder she had been changed.
I turned on the tap, splashing water over my face until my skin burned. Still, the quiet remained. My wolf hadn’t stirred in some time, not since the look in Dominic’s eyes had felt like both salvation and pun
