The air in the bedroom felt thick, charged with the lingering static of their encounter in the closet. Anita stopped dead in her tracks, her hand hovering inches from the door handle. She didn't turn around; she couldn't. If she looked at him now, she was afraid he'd see the chaotic pulse jumping in her neck or the way her "wolfless" soul was vibrating like a struck bell.
"Yes, Alpha?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of the air conditioning.
Gotti stood by Nero's bedside, his silhouette tall and imposing against the dim night-lights of the room.
Slowly, his steady footsteps approached behind her.
"Walk," Gotti murmured, standing right behind her.
Anita did need to be told twice. The hair behind her neck was raised from his proximity, she needed to put some space between them.
She moved, her legs suddenly feeling like jelly as she felt Gotti's intense haze behind her.
The space she craved was never hers.
