Draven’s gaze darkened as he leaned in.
“Who’s been trying to reach you?”
“A friend.” I didn’t elaborate.
Suddenly, his tie hit the floor. He leaned in closer, his presence overwhelming.
“Ella, what the hell are you doing? First, you try to run, and now this silent act? You still think you’re some delicate she-wolf we all have to coddle?”
He scoffed. “If you weren’t born a Luna, stop pretending to be one!”
“Look outside,” he hissed. “Wives who can’t bear pups—they get rejected. You’re lucky I didn’t do the same.”
His breath was hot, his fury close. Once, those words would have shattered me. I would’ve wept and begged and told him I was sorry.
Now?
I only felt the numbing void where love used to be.
Why were we still holding onto this bond when it had already broken?
Before I could respond, his phone buzzed. He straightened like a puppet on strings and strode to the hallway.
Then his laughter filtered in—low, soft, tender.
For her.
The door clicked shut.
A moment later, my phone rang.
I answered.
“Ella?” a deep, anxious voice whispered.
“Why did you go back? Don’t tell me... You still can’t let him go?”