Fade to Black

“I’m not going to him,” I whispered finally, quieter now, speaking to my wolf, to myself, to the sky if it was listening. “Not like this. Not while I still smell like Vaughn. Not while I still hear his voice in my head every time I blink.”

“Come on, she purred inside my head. You know you’ve been thinking about him. His hands. His scent. The way he watches you like he already knows how you taste.