Olivia's POV
If I was jealous?
Was he seriously asking me that?
Of course I was jealous.
The question alone made something sharp twist in my chest. I had loved him all my life—before the bond, before the pack, before everything fell apart. Mate or not, past or present, that feeling didn't disappear just because he decided to die and come back wearing another face.
I clenched my fists at my sides, forcing myself not to react, not to lean into him the way my body instinctively wanted to. His breath brushed my ear, warm and familiar, and it sent a shiver straight down my spine.
"Tell me, Luna," he murmured softly. "Are you jealous?"
My heart slammed against my ribs.
I turned my head sharply, facing him, putting barely an inch of space between us. "Watch your tone," I said coolly. "You're crossing a line."
His eyes darkened—not with fear, but with something else.
"A line?" he asked quietly. "Or the truth?"
I swallowed.
