I wasn’t supposed to ever feel this way about Isabella.
Sunlight flooded in through my bedroom window, fanning over Isabella’s face. Bluebirds perched on the branches right outside my window and glanced in on us, chirping away like they did every morning.
When I’d marched into the Lycans’ pack house, my plan was to tear Roman and her apart, so he’d be weak, and I could destroy him. It was funny how life worked like this because, now—less than two weeks later—I wanted her.
Curling my arm around her waist, I pulled her closer and inhaled her overwhelming scent of vanilla. I stuffed my nose deeper into her hair, wanting to accustom myself to her and to burn her smell into my memory forever.
Though I expected her to still be sleeping, she sucked in a breath, her smaller body tensing agains
