Damon POV
She shot off the bed like I'd seared her soul.
One minute I had her under me, trembling with need—ours for the taking—and the next, she rolled away like I was poison.
She landed near the bathroom door like an electrified cat who'd just realized she'd almost given herself to the fucking enemy.
"You need cold water," she said stiffly, voice clipped. "It usually helps when a she-wolf is in heat."
And then she turned. Walked straight into the bathroom.
Left me.
Left me like I was nothing.
Like this unbearable storm ripping through me wasn't her fucking fault. Like she hadn't just ignited every raw nerve in my body and then slammed the door shut before I could burn with her.
Cold water?That's it? That's fucking it?
My fists clenched into the mattress, every muscle in my body quaking with a rage that was sharp, molten, and so far past reason it burned.
She just walked away. Like it was nothing.
Like I was nothing.
