𝐌𝐢𝐤𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐥
"Irrelevant," I bit out.
"Is it?" The wolf's presence pressed against my consciousness, insistent. "The bond is broken but the need remains. You feel her longing. She feels yours. How much longer will you pretend it's just strategy?"
I didn't answer.
On screen, Selene stood. She grabbed the blanket from her bed and wrapped it around her shoulders like a cloak, the fabric dwarfing her small frame.
Then she moved toward the door.
I sat forward, attention sharpening.
She paused at the threshold, her hand on the handle. Even through the grainy security feed, I could see her hesitation. The way her shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath.
Then she opened the door and stepped into the hallway.
She's coming to me.
