RONAN
I hated sharing my things.
I absolutely loathed when others touched them.
But she—she looked so damn hot in my shirt.
Too hot.
The hem brushed mid-thigh, revealing smooth, toned legs that glistened in the firelight, still damp from the rain. Her bare skin shimmered in the amber glow, flawless and soft, unmarred. The shirt hung loosely on her petite frame, swallowing her shoulders and arms, but clinging to her hips just enough to hint at the curves beneath. Every time she shifted, the collar slipped a little lower, revealing the elegant dip of her collarbone.
I’ve seen plenty of beautiful she-wolves in my life; ones who were instantly attracted, easy-going, blushing at the slightest compliment.
But her?
She raised her brow and said with all the confidence in the world, “I was
