whispers beneath the moon
My wolf prowled beneath my skin, restless, pacing.
And then it hit me.
Her scent.
Vanilla. Sweet. Warm. Like soft fingers trailing down my chest. Like sin itself wrapped in silk.
And then—laughter.
Her laughter.
I froze, breath caught in my throat, every muscle locking tight. Slowly, carefully, I edged toward the open archway leading to the soldier’s courtyard.
And there she was.
My angel.
Smiling. Laughing.
For him.
Xaden stood in front of her, towering and shirtless, a fresh bandage wrapped around his arm. She stood close—too fucking close—retying the bandage, fingers gentle and soft, head tilted, lips curved into a smile that I hadn’t seen in days.
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