043 | A SURVIVOR

I didn’t want to admit, even to myself, how easy it was to forget about everything important when I was wrapped in Ares’s arms. Even as I brushed my fingers over his bare chest and saw bruises blooming where I had gripped him, and fingernail marks beaded with blood, I did not remember the reasons why I had been angry. My soul came alight at his touch, and damn it – I’d had a hard week.

I could even forget my responsibilities to my pack, if only for a short while. They would hit twice as hard when I came out of my mate bond induced stupor, but as Ares and I lost ourselves in one another’s bodies I frankly did not care about anything beyond the reaches of his bed.

But after, when it all came crashing down, the guilt was ravenous. It ate away at my insides, leaving me hollow as we dressed ourselves.

This wasn’t a conversation we could have in a lover’s embrace. I wouldn’t be able to focus if we did.

“Tell me about the attacks,” I said, sitting down at the little dinner table. “You told