She was speaking to the silver-eyed one. His hand on her elbow. The way she tilted her head slightly toward him, lips curving in that small, private acknowledgment. The easy intimacy of long familiarity.
Was he.....?
Second-chance mate.
The words slammed into me like a gut punch. Every last scrap of composure Storm had ever possessed shattered in an instant. Rage and raw agony knotted together so tightly I could no longer tell where one ended and the other began. He had touched her and was comforting her. He possessed what should have been mine by every law of fate and instinct.
Storm snarled, a low, vicious sound that vibrated through my bones.
Don’t, I commanded, pouring every ounce of will I had into the order.
Storm didn’t listen.
The jealousy crashed over us like a physical wa
