MIA’S POV
I tossed and turned, staring up at the ceiling as the pale glow of the moon spilled across my room, painting silver streaks over the tangled sheets. The fabric clung damply to my skin, sticky with the restless heat that refused to leave me. My body was exhausted, yet my mind refused to rest. Every time I closed my eyes, the same images clawed their way back, Blair’s mouth on the beautiful she-wolf’s neck, her knowing smirk, his cold indifference, the way he never once looked my way.
I pressed a pillow over my head and groaned quietly, trying to drown out the thoughts, the heat, the deep ache that pulsed low in my belly. But it was useless. The air felt thick with his scent, even here, as if he had left pieces of himself behind to torment me.
“I need to stop thinking about him,
