The room was bathed in the soft, amber glow of her bedside lamp, casting long, flickering shadows against the walls. Bella lay back on the silk sheets, the silence of the house pressing in on her. Her mother and Collins had left for their formal dinner date an hour ago, but the ghost of his touch still burned on her skin. The thought of being sent away to Lycaon Academy—of being ripped away from the man who was both her protector and her ruin—made her blood boil with a restless, feverish heat.
She couldn't help it. Her fingers drifted to the buttons of her shirt, undoing them with trembling precision. She exposed her skin to the cool air, her hands cupping her breasts, her thumbs grazing the sensitive peaks as she arched her back. A soft, jagged moan escaped her lips.
"Collins," she whis
