Third Person POV


    <b>75 </b>


    + Pearis


    The bathroom hung heavy with steam, every breath thick like syrup, stretching seconds into eternity.


    Aubrey’s mind nked, then flooded with panic and shame. She wanted to turn, to flee, but her body betrayed her–rooted in ce, caught and pinned beneath the searing weight of Henry’s eyes. They burned into her skin, cataloging every inch, every tremor, as though deciding exactly where to strike to taste her weakness.


    His silence pressed harder than any words.


    Gooseflesh prickled across her bare arms.


    “I… I didn’t know you were in here.” Her voice scraped low, dry, her hands flying to cover her breasts in a desperate shield.


    Atst, Henry moved.


    Not with the reckless lunge she braced for, but a slow, measured advance–like a wolf certain of its kill. Water still trickled down the sculpted ridges of his chest and stomach, each step radiating heat and dominance until only a breath of space remained.


    “Now you know,” he said, his voice husky, roughened by desire until it rasped like sandpaper.


    His hand lifted. Aubrey squeezed her eyes shut, turning her face aside—but instead of groping her body, his palm pped the door shut behind her. The click sealed them into a cocoon of heat and scent.


    “Go out…” The plea was so faint it almost broke.


    He didn’t. Instead, his knuckles brushed her cheek, leaving damp warmth like sparks racing under her skin.


    E, her wolf, purred in the back of her mind, lulled by the touch of a dominant alpha, drunk on the intimacy. Aubrey herself shuddered, her body betraying her with a traitorous surge of heat pooling low, her knees softening against her will.


    When his hand slid to her back, stroking in slow, burning passes, a strangled breath broke from her throat, half whimper, half moan. Her legs buckled, and only his arm around her waist kept her upright.


    Their bodies fused. And then she felt it–hard, heavy, undeniable–pressing against her


    stomach.


    Chapter 326 Shadows of the Past


    “You… expecting this?” His breath fanned her lips, his nose almost brushing hers.


    <b>75 </b>


    43 Pearls


    Her chest rose and fell, rapid, unsteady. His too, the strain of control evident in every corded muscle holding her close but not crushing.


    And then–suddenly—he wrenched in a breath, tore himself free, and shoved the door open.


    He was gone in an instant, leaving only the swirl of steam and the echo of her own ragged heartbeat.


    Aubrey sagged against the wall, her legs trembling, heat still flooding her face.


    He had stopped. He had respected her boundary.


    But her body had betrayed her, aching for his touch.


    And still… she would not, could not, give in. Not with the ghosts of knives and scalpels still carved into her skin. Not with the memory of infection crawling through her veins. Not with the shadow of thatb forever suspended above her like a de.


    No matter how much her body longed for him, her heart recoiled, caged by scars that refused to fade.


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