My mind was a mess and l had to block my wolf out. The image of her face, pale and scared in that hut kept flashing in my head. I hated myself. How could I lock her up like that?
"She chose Mark," I muttered to myself, the words tasted bitter coming out of my mouth.
That pathetic excuse was the only thing stopping me from turning around and freeing her right then and there.
I was hurting her because I was hurting. My pain was a raw wound, and locking her up was like pressing a dirty rag against it, hoping it would somehow make it better. It didn't. It just made me feel even more disgusting.
I was supposed to be happy because this is my revenge. I get to make her feel as much pain as I went through or atleast half of it.
With every mile I went further away from her the heavier the wei
