Her face falls, and I can already see the storm forming in her eyes as she steps away from me.
“Return to the pack?” she repeats slowly, as if testing the words on her tongue. “Why…? Is it Melinda and the baby?”
I don’t answer immediately. I can’t.
My mind is still half in that basement, hearing Vince’s voice.
She looks at my face expectantly.
“This has nothing to do with Melinda,” I finally say, low but firm.
She nods, turning away from me. I can't see her face, but I sense the rising tension through our bond, sharp, restless, and wounded.
“Okay, I will ask Cynthia to get me something to change into.”
Her voice is too calm. The kind of calm that comes before something breaks.
I run a hand through my hair, forcing a calm composure.
“Angel…” I step closer, wrapping my arms around
