POV: Violet
The air between us thickened until I could barely breathe. His hand hovered, fingers trembling, so close I could feel the heat radiating off his skin. One inch. That was all that separated us one tiny, fragile inch that carried the weight of five years.
“Violet,” he whispered again, and it nearly broke me.
No one said my name like that. Not even my grandmother when she wanted me to feel safe. Not even John when he wanted me to believe he understood me. Only Ryan. Always Ryan.
I should have stepped back. I should have remembered the promises I made to myself, the rules that had kept me alive all these years. But my body didn’t care about rules. My body remembered him the warmth of his hands, the roughness of his voice, the wolf in his chest that called to something half asle
