Eli
Hazel’s got me on the ground again. Flat on my back, breath gone, the edge of her boot planted next to my ribs like she’s pinning a snake.
“Still too slow,” she says, leaning down to offer me a hand up. “I swear, you fight like you’ve got someone who’ll be taking care of your battles for you.”
“Maybe I do,” I mutter, letting her haul me to my feet. My muscles ache in that deep, satisfying way. Every stab reminding me of how Ronan consumed me last night. Every night. And morning.
I never expected to like s*x. Now I’m an addict.
She snorts, clearly not impressed. “He won’t always be around to save your ass. And what if he needs saving someday? I’m sure you want to protect your Alpha.”
“I’ll embroider that on a pillow.”
Hazel’s halfway to telling me exactly where I can shove that
