Reed
The impact knocked the air out of my lungs.
I crashed against the nearest wall with a sickening crunch, the sound of my bones meeting plaster ringing in my ears. My spine screamed. My head snapped back. My teeth clacked together hard enough to send sparks behind my eyes.
My lungs burned, trying to drag in oxygen that refused to come. I gasped like a man drowning, every breath a fight against the pain radiating through my ribs from the impact. My spine screamed in protest, nerves buzzing, blood roaring in my ears like a warning siren.
But it wasn’t the physical pain that broke me.
It was what I saw in front of me.
Rayne was gone.
The man I knew—the man I loved—was nowhere to be found behind that face.
All that was left was Eden.
His wolf.
That primal, monstrous presence I had
