Chapter 63

Donovan watched Sloane flee, rubbing his bottom lip.

He'd told himself he'd heed Cruz's advice and control himself around her. This was not the time to indulge his carnal urges, not when the fate of the Set was at stake. Not when it might push Sloane away again. And yet when she'd looked at him, when she'd caressed his cheek with such tenderness, he'd been unable to stop himself from tasting her again.

He didn't drink. He'd never been interested in alcohol, not after what had happened to his parents and sister. He'd often bitterly prided himself on his sobriety; how anyone could willingly partake of something that destroyed so many lives was beyond him. But he'd heard people speak of addiction - of that incessant, agonizing yearning, of that craving that was impossible to deny, no matter how much you knew you'd regret it in the end.

That's what he felt around Sloane. He'd spent his entire life avoiding addiction, and he'd stumbled into it anyway. Thrown himself into it, consequences