Roman
I’d woken up from a night in my wolf form many times. Often, I awoke sore, in a weird position under a tree someplace and with feelings of self-loathing and regret seeping in as my bare ass greeted the morning sunshine. When I awoke this morning, the sunshine greeting me was a mass of gold curls tangled in my fingers, and the only feelings stirred were those of contentment.
She called me her ‘safe place’. And the proof of that confession lay nestled in my arms, Jasmine’s pretty freckle-dusted nose tucked under my chin right where I could indulge in her lilac scent.
She’d slept in her clothes, too exhausted from the Pandora’s box of old memories escaping their lid. Whatever that wolf did to her, those memories rattled a particular set of chains. The type of chains that quivered eve
