✧ Chapter 13 ✧
Emily’s POV
The pain in my ankle hadn’t gone away. If anything, it felt worse now that I’d been left alone again. It pulsed with every heartbeat, reminding me just how far I was from normal—how far I was from home.
I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the door Dalton had run out of. Or stormed out of. Or beast-shifted-and-sprinted out of. Whatever.
I sighed, my shoulders sinking.
God, I felt guilty as hell.
Not just about snapping at him. Not just about this entire weird, twisted… whatever this thing was between us. No. I felt guilty because I knew there were people out there—real people—who were probably worried sick about me.
Cole.
My chest squeezed.
My fiancé. My soon-to-be husband. The man who had planned a life with me. The man I was supposed to be texting
