“New pack, new you, huh?” Ryker asked from the doorway to my room in the Lycans’ pack house. He stared at my freshly cut and highlighted hair that sat in loose curls at my shoulders.
A smile twitched on my lips—the first smile in nearly two weeks since I’d left—and I glanced at him through the mirror. Moonflowers twinkled in the corner of my room, near the window. “You can complain about it all you want, Ryker, but I like it.”
I wanted him to respond with a sly comment, something that Roman would say, something to remind me of him.
But instead, he walked over to me, tugged on one of my curls, and said, “I like it.”
“You like it?” I asked, my finger brushing against my mate’s necklace. The metal was cool, cold even.
He gazed down at the pendant, and then he looked back at me and nodded
