‘He’s still the same man. Judging him just for being a werewolf would mean judging Zion as well.’
Zion would always be Zion in my eyes, my beloved son.
Aaron had a different story.
“You’re not alone.” I spoke, my eyes flickering from his lips up to meet his gaze: “I have thought about the kiss more than I should have, Aaron.”
He took a step closer, and I felt the heat coming off his body, and the hairs on my body rose on alert.
His hand lifted to my face, and my breath hung in my throat, but I didn’t pull away or push him off. To an extent, I wanted this. I wanted him.
He leaned in and took my lips into his wet, soft ones for a brief kiss that ignited all the emotions I’ve experienced in the past week, from lust to need and desperation.
The kiss deepened, and his tongue pushed into
