Chapter 32
Trista's POV
I woke up in his arms this morning.
His body heat was still lingering on my chest. The mating bond was stretched thin, like an overdrawn silver thread, giving off a light tap-tap sound between my bones.
When two wolves are close, that line self-stitches temporarily, like a quick fix after the rain, but it could tear again at any second.
I pushed up from his arm, disgusted. My pheromones almost surged out.
I fiercely suppressed my breath, keeping my scent clean so he couldn't smell my mood.
The comm-stone was cold. I checked the time—Thursday, just past eight a.m. He hadn't even left for the packhouse meeting yet.
He came back very late last night. I knew the reason—taking care of Samantha.
My wolf let out a soft sound in my mind. Its ears fell again. Closen
