Three days.It has been three days since I saw her face.Three long, fucking days since I heard from her.The only thing I’ve been hearing through the mind link is my father’s voice, prying and pressing, asking if I was okay, asking how my plan was going. I give him vague answers, half-truths that keep him satisfied but still at a distance. I can’t give him more. Not yet.Right now, all I need to know is my fate.What the fuck are you doing, Winter?Are you hiding from me?The questions claw at my chest as I pace the confines of my cell, my boots dragging across the stone floor, the sound a reminder of the cage I’ve been forced into. I feel like I’m burning holes into the walls. I run my hand through my hair, tugging it, restless, tense, raw.Then—later in the afternoon—I feel it.Footsteps. A cluster of them moving in my direction. The air shifts, thick with anticipation. And then, like a spark catching dry leaves, it hits me—her scent. That intoxicating pull that no chain or wolfsba
آخر تحديث : 2025-08-25 اقرأ المزيد