28. Matilda

It is becoming harder and harder not to break. The small room Briss so kindly gave me feels like a prison. Especially when Tange spends hours of the day outside it. He insists he wants to get to know me. Yet he knows his scent is flooding the room. His wolf’s call to Nina is almost over-powering.

That red pepper scent that reminds me so badly of Cillian, merged with a murky mossy tang, is everywhere. It means my dreams are now lust-fuelled assaults of my mind. I curse Nina each morning as I wake up with slick thighs and a hoarse throat.

I have given the room key to Briss, making him promise not to unlock it during the night. I do not trust Nina one bit. She is so desperate to match with Tange’s wolf that I half expected her to make me sleepwalk straight into his bed. I have not spoken to her for several days. I know what games she is playing.

The past two nights, I dreamt of unlocking the door, standing naked, and beckoning my mate forward. I offer my body to him like a sacrifice, sta