32. Genevieve

Of course I am completely drenched all over again as I race the dark, lonely mile back to Cragstone. Every step was an escape from devastation, anger and humiliation. I had never imagined my game seeing Nikolai comparing his struggle to stop his wolf killing to our mate bond.

I refused to cry. I won’t. He doesn’t deserve any of that. I mutter every curse word I know instead, storming past a confused looking Jackson and Kharkov on the porch as I re-enter the gloomy, wooden Cragstone packhouse.

“New haircut Gen?” Zeke tries jokingly but I simply shoot him daggers. Whatever he has been whispering to Nikolai didn’t help matters either. One kiss, two years ago!

Showered, redressed and warm again I lie in my bed. I should be cosy and ready for sleep. Yet I’m wired and anxious. The row, the nastiness with which we fell apart burns in my ribcage.

As though someone was attacking the link between us with a pair of scissors. It won’t cut, but a heart will bleed from enough torment. I’m in silk