Dante
I watched her leave and didn’t move.
Didn’t call out.
Didn’t beg her to stay, even though my soul howled after her like a wounded beast.
My wolf was pacing in my chest, frantic and pissed, scraping against the inside of my skin like it wanted to rip out and chase her down. But I held the leash tighter than ever.
Because I knew if I touched her again, I wouldn’t be able to let go.
And that was the damn problem.
Shirley Winters wasn’t just some woman. She was mine. My mate. My anchor in a world I’d long ago stopped trusting. But she was also chaos wrapped in warmth. Fire in a form my wolf didn’t want to escape.
And she’d just walked away.
I threw the wrench across the room. It slammed into the wall with a satisfying crack, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing was enough when the bon
