With my body trembling, my hand falls from the door handle, my eyes never leaving Ezra’s, as he steps closer. “Have you been crying?” His voice was equally demanding but more soft this time.
I raise my hand to cover my face, dropping my head into my hands as I do so. “Ezra please…” I whisper. “I am sorry.”
There is a heavy sigh from the man in front of me. Is he angry? Upset? It is so hard to tell. But I know I want him to understand. I need him to realise I have reached the limit of what I am able to take. Yet, a part of me does not want him to think badly of me.
“Lena. What is going on?” His voice alters again, calmer now, as he reaches for me, and pulls me to him. There is not the anger I would expect from a man who has just caught me trying to flee his pack. Trying to flee his br
