Alora
The room still feels far too warm. Too suffocating. Though that might be because of the werewolf beside me. His very presence seems to make the walls of the room close in around me. Or maybe that is just my mind finally clearing from the heat's haze. I lie there in the bed — his bed — his scent of pine and smoke filling every inch of space as I stare up at the thick beams that cross the ceiling.
What is wrong with me?
Why is it so hard to control my body's reaction… to either of them?
One minute, I want to punch them in the face, while the other, I want to feel their bodies wrapped around mine. Inside mine. My pulse is still hammering inside my chest, refusing to settle into anything that resembles a normal rhythm. Every inch of my being feels overstimulated and hypersensitive,
