"Say something. Move. Run. Keya... f*****g stop him," my wolf urged.
My hands trembled at my sides. My mouth opened—barely. The words were there, straining against my tongue, raw and desperate.
DON’T GO.
I wanted to scream it. Wanted to reach out and grab his wrist and make him stay. But the words wouldn’t come. They stuck, thick and choking, behind everything I was too scared to say.
That I was confused.
That I was scared.
That I missed him, I had always missed him.
That no one had ever made my heart burn and break like he did.
He was almost at the edge of the woods now, shoulders stiff.
Still, I didn’t move.
I just stood there, helpless.
***
“Keya?”
I jerked at the sound of my name, blinking like I’d just come out of a trance. I hadn’t realized I’d been standing in the exac
