Exhaustion made my limbs heavy.
I watched as her golden-brown irises began to slowly return as the dilation of her pupils retracted.
She lay down beside me.
Pulled me against her and licked the blood from my throat.
Time passed between us silently.
I didn’t have the energy to attempt to speak yet.
Daylight passed to the darkness of night.
Cole untangled herself from me.
I whined for her to stay.
She sat at the edge of the bed and pulled her top back on.
“I’m sorry,” she said so quietly before she got up and left.
Left before I had time to process that she was leaving.
I was shocked and suddenly terribly cold and shaking.
What had I done?
Chapter twenty-seven
You Don’t Always Find What You’re Looking For
Ididn’t remember falling asleep, and I recalled no dreams, which was disorientating in itself. For years, I had dreamt every night, never good dreams, but some less devastating than others.
It was an odd sensation to wake without the smoky ghosts of my nightly imaginings chasing me awake.
The sun was bright, flooding the space beneath the loft bedroom with light.
I listened, waited like it had become a habit to hear where Cole was.
Only silence.
I moved, which caused my neck to ache, and I saw the dark red stain of blood on the pillow.
The marking came flooding back to me along with Cole’s departure.
I pressed my fingers lightly against the ache of my neck and hissed in pain.
It was real.
Cole had marked me.
I had begged her to.
And she had regretted it so much that, as soon as the high of instinct had faded, she had left and apparently had not returned.
Guilt made me feel sick.
I had known what I was doing, had seen the change in her the moment I had taunted her alpha instincts to the surface.
