Wren.
Wren, who stood barefoot on the worn wood floor, swaying just a little, like she couldn’t decide if she wanted to bolt or drop to her knees.
Wren, who had her arms wrapped around herself like she could hold her own body together while her skin flushed golden in the low light.
Fuck, she was so beautiful it hurt.
Midnight blue-black hair in tangled waves, the kind of wild mess that begged for someone’s hands in it—mine, preferably—but even disheveled, she looked unreal. Ethereal. Like something made of shadow and fire.
And those eyes.God.
Honey-colored, warm and sharp, but rimmed in that almost metallic gold that likely only showed when she was likethis.
Not a mask in sight.
She kept running her fingers through her hair—agitated, restless, pacing—and I couldn’t stop staring at the way her skin shimmered under the soft glow of the cabin lights. Not literally, no glitter or sparkle. But it wasthere, like golden honey dust swept over her collarbones and throat and arms and the delicate edges of her jaw.
It made me ravenous.
Made my mouth dry.
Made the primal part of me, the part I usually kept leashed,howl.
And I wanted—Fuck, I wanted.
Wanted to sink my hands into her hair, taste that glow on her skin, drag my tongue along the sweet hollow beneath her throat and see if it melted like sugar.
But I didn’t move. Not even a step.
Roan was still and silent behind me, a mountain of control and unreadable strength, and Jay… Jay hadn’t spoken once since she’d told us not to leave. He stood just inside the door,not too close, not too far. Watching. Waiting. Like he always did. Like he couldreadthe room better than any of us.
I couldn’t read anything right now except the way Wren’s scent had changed.
The sweetness of it. The dizzy, golden-bright pull of her.
It waswronghow good it was. Wrong howperfect. It made my gums ache, made my fingers twitch.
Made it hard to breathe.
So I stayed where I was. Tensed. Hot. Unmoving.
Holding the line because Roan hadn’t told me to step back, but he hadn’t told me to move forward either. His restraint bolstered my own, even as Jay’s serenity seemed to calm the stormy waves slashing against me inside. If there was evenonebreath of uncertainty in Wren, then we were staying exactly where we were.
God help me, though. If sheasked. If she whispered my name withwantinstead of fear— I didn’t know if I could survive it.
Because I didn’t just want her scent, or her heat, or her permission. I wantedher. All of her.
There wasn’t a damn thing playful about my desire or the primitive demand unfolding in my soul. A demand I’dneverexperienced once in my life and wasn’t entirely certain I was prepared to cope with right now.
Jay moved first.
Quiet. Measured. Controlled like always. The kind of control that didn’taskfor attention butcommandedit anyway.
He didn’t look at Wren as he moved through the room. Didn’t crowd her. Didn’t even glance her way too long. He just started collecting—blankets first, then the towels crumpled at the end of the couch, a water bottle knocked on its side, her laptop halfway out of its case, like she’d tried to work and couldn’t focus.
The normalcy of it should’ve been grounding.
But the second he lifted the first blanket, thescenthit me.
