But even as my body responds to hers, even as she melts against me like she was born to be there, reality comes crashing back.
I tear my mouth away, breathing hard, my forehead pressed against hers. Her lips are swollen, her eyes dazed with desire, and for a moment—just a moment—I almost forget why I’ve been running from this.
Then, I remember.
The weakness. The quaking wolf. The way she crumbles under pressure instead of rising to meet it.
I step back abruptly, and the loss of my support makes her lose her balance. She braces herself against the tree, chest heaving, staring at me in confusion.
“This changes nothing,” I say, my voice harsher than I intend.
She suddenly looks as if I’ve slapped her. The desire in her eyes dims, replaced by something that looks perilously close to deva
