Running did not calm Atlas or Evan. If anything, Evan felt more wired as he walked back into the pack house, dragging a hand through his messy hair. Atlas had run for nearly two hours, chasing down two rabbits and a large deer, but the wolf was still obsessing over their mate. Evan tried to block him out. It didn’t work.
Evan was obsessing over her too.
He was striding down the back hallway toward the stairs when the kitchen door swung open abruptly and smacked into his face with a sharp crack. He staggered back, clutching his nose, as a soft curse broke the silence.
“Damn it, Evan. Are you okay?”
Warm hands covered his, trying to pry them away. He blinked and found Mia in the dim light, her brows knit in worry.
“You’re bleeding,” she muttered, tugging at his hands.
“I’ve had worse.”
