The first of them whose eyes collide with hers is Amias. He stands with his arms crossed, his black shirt tight against his muscles. She notes that he's had a change of clothes.
Of course, he has.
The moment she travels into the depths of his eyes, memories surge in her head like a floodgate thrown wide.
The woods, damp leaves beneath her palms. His lips crash against hers, urgent, hungry. The shock of how safe she felt when his hand curled around her neck. The dizzy warmth of his jacket around her shoulders this very morning. The way they'd almost—almost… lost themselves to heat and desire under the cover of trees.
Her thighs clench at the thought. Her wolf presses harder against her bones, growling. "He's ours, but he doesn't want to give us all of him."
But then she sees Lira.
