The university library had always been my sanctuary. Towering bookshelves, the subtle scent of aged paper, and the hushed atmosphere created the perfect escape from the chaos of pack dynamics and personal drama. Today, though, I wasn't here to escape—I was searching for answers.
My fingers absently traced the small scar on my palm as I wandered deeper into the library's quietest section. Rhys's apology from our encounter at the wedding reception still echoed in my mind. The way his eyes had softened when he'd said my name on that balcony, the rare vulnerability I'd glimpsed—it was confusing, to say the least.
"Stop it," I whispered to myself, shaking my head. I couldn't afford to dwell on Rhys Knight and his unpredictable moods. My body was still suffering from his rejection, no matter what words he offered now.
