I stand there, rooted to the spot like some ancient, gnarled tree, long after they’ve disappeared into the suffocating darkness of the woods.
My lungs burn, each inhale feeling shallow and useless, like I’m drowning in air.
"You let her go! You f*****g i***t!" Cyan’s roar echoes inside my skull, a furious tempest mirroring the storm raging in my chest. "You know he's only going to break her!"
Without thinking, I lash out, my fist connecting with the rough bark of a nearby oak.
Pain explodes through my knuckles, a sharp, white-hot agony that does nothing to quell the deeper ache. It doesn’t help.
Nothing f*****g will.
The walk back to town is a blur of self-loathing and the lingering scent of her, a ghost of strawberries in the damp night air.
The pack members that most probably
