WICKED PROVIDENCE Book 2
He tucked the wolf-pelts around her, preparing to retreat.
Suddenly, Avery’s hand shot out in her sleep, gripping his sleeve. "Hudson... do not leave me in the dark," she whispered, a broken plea.
A surge of protective instinct flooded him. He leaned down, whispering against her temple, "I am the shadow at your door. I am not going anywhere." He sat at the edge of the bed until her breathing leveled into a deep, peaceful slumber.
As the moon cycled, Avery’s recovery accelerated, her coldness toward Hudson melting into a tentative warmth. Hudson wasn't surprised; he knew he was working off a debt of pain he’d spent a decade accruing.
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