It could have been me.
“I don’t miss being human.” Ink paused, the human holding back words that his wolf wanted him to say. “I miss you.”
The air between us turned to static, and I felt his pull—magnetic and uncontrollable. On edge between human and not.
Concentrate, I told myself. I hadn’t come here to picture his life before he’d changed. I hadn’t come here to commune with his wolf or wonder if it was a feeling like this that had coerced generations of human females to leave their families for a chance at dying while giving birth to werewolf pups.
I’m not that kind of girl, I told Ink silently.
He shrugged, and I wondered if he even knew what I was talking about, if he had even the vaguest measure of the power calling to my body from his.
“Callum said not to touch you,” Ink remark
