"Why?" she asked.
"Because I can't undo it. Can't unclaim you. Can't unfeel what I feel," I said, touching her face with my good hand. "Can't stop wanting you even though I know I've ruined everything."
"You have," she agreed quietly. "You've ruined everything."
"I know," I admitted.
"But I still want you too," she confessed, the admission seeming to break her. "And I hate myself for it."
Chapter 11
Harper
The suitcase wouldn't close. I pressed down harder, shoving clothes that smelled like sex and bad decisions into every corner. My hands shook as I tried to zip it shut, the metal teeth refusing to cooperate.
"Come on, come on," I muttered, checking my phone again. 3:47 AM. If I left now, I could catch the 5:30 flight back to Seattle. Get ahead of the scandal. Clear out my office before Richards officially fired me.
The suite was quiet. Knox had finally fallen asleep an hour ago after our third round of... I couldn't even call it sex anymore. It was something else. Something primal and consuming that left marks on my soul as deep as the ones on my skin.
I grabbed my medical bag, trying to ignore how my legs still trembled. The heat had subsided to a manageable ache, though my body protested every movement away from the Alpha sleeping in the next room. The bond pulled at me like invisible chains, making each step toward the door feel like walking through quicksand.
My hand was on the doorknob when I heard it. The creak of a floorboard. The shift of air that meant I wasn't alone anymore.
"Going somewhere?" Knox's voice was rough with sleep and something darker.
I didn't turn around. "I have to leave."
"No, you don't."
"Knox, please. Just let me go," I said quietly.
"Turn around, Harper."
"No."
"Turn. Around."
Something in his voice made my body obey before my mind could protest. He stood there in only boxers, his entire body coiled with tension. His eyes were pure black, no trace of gray left.
"You're trying to run," he stated, not a question.
"I'm trying to salvage what's left of my career," I corrected.
"By leaving in the middle of the night? Like a coward?"
The word stung. "Like someone who understands consequences."
He moved closer, and I pressed back against the door. "The only consequence that matters is what happens if you leave right now," he said.
"What, you'll be upset? You'll get over it," I said, trying for dismissive.
"No, Harper. You'll die."
I laughed, sharp and bitter. "Don't be dramatic."
"Your heat isn't over," he said, stepping closer. "You're between waves. If you leave now, without an Alpha, when the next one hits..."
"I've handled heats alone before," I protested.
