I looked away.
Because if I kept watching Damian Voss kneel on his own floor and tend to a wound I hadn't even known I had, I was going to cry. And I'd already done enough crying for one lifetime.
Then, deep inside me, so deep I nearly missed it, my wolf stirred.
A single, thin whimper.
My breath caught. The sound pulled at something in my chest, a terrible, intoxicating gravity that made my ribs feel too small for whatever was expanding behind them.
And then she was gone again.
Exhaustion, I told myself. That's all this is. The emotional voltage of today had been off the charts. Of course my body was misfiring.
Damian finished with the ointment, slid a pair of soft house slippers onto my feet, and stood. He was still close. Close enough that I caught his scent. Not the cologne. Ben
