I drummed my fingers against the armrest of my office chair, eyes fixed on the sleek, expensive clock hanging on the wall. The hour hand moved at a glacial pace. She was avoiding me. Again.
It had been three days since Ronan's unexpected visit, and in that time, Seraphina had managed the impossible feat of being both physically present and entirely absent. She drifted through rooms like a ghost, disappeared whenever I entered, and maintained a polite, frigid distance during our few unavoidable interactions.
My wolf was restless, pacing our shared mental space with increasing agitation. He didn't understand the sudden withdrawal, and frankly, neither did I. One moment we'd been making progress—her body responding beautifully to my touch during the scent marking—and the next, she'd erected walls so high even my Alpha strength couldn't scale them.
"Damn it," I muttered, glancing at the clock again.
