The Alpha’s Moonbreather
“Afraid of what I’d feel if I got too close again.”
Her breath caught, sharp and fragile.
“You don’t…” Her voice cracked, and she pressed her knuckles to her mouth before lowering them again. “You don’t understand. I thought I already lost you.”
Luka’s thumb brushed across her knuckles, deliberate, a mockery of tenderness. “You never lost me,” he whispered. “I’ve missed your touch every night.”
Her eyes fluttered shut, lashes trembling against flushed cheeks. She was caught in the dream now, tangled in her own longing, unable to see the trap closing around her. Luka didn’t need to push harder. He only needed to wait.
Bab Populer