Vincent POV
After dropping her back at the house, I did not step inside. I turned the car around and drove straight toward the forest instead, my grip tight on the steering wheel, my wolf clawing restlessly beneath my skin. It was angry. Frustrated. Starving.
I shifted the moment I reached the trees and ran.
I tore through the forest like a rogue, my paws hitting the ground harder than necessary as branches whipped past me. The night air filled my lungs, sharp and cold, but it did nothing to cool the fire burning inside my chest. My wolf wanted out. Wanted blood, wanted release, wanted her.
Her lips lingered in my mind like a curse. Soft. Warm. Dangerous. One taste had been enough to remind me of everything I was trying to bury. I wanted more of her, more of the way she fit against me, more of the quiet way she unraveled my control without even trying. I hated it. I hated that she could do this to me without lifting a finger.
