Zara's words pierce through the room like a needle, sharp and clear. My wolf is jolly at the sound of her voice, his mind eased despite the murderous intentions he holds.
I can't stop gazing at the straps of her black bra, or the way she wipes the sweat off her forehead with a finger. Not to mention the rythmetic way she taps her legs, exposing—
"Well, well, what a reunion," Chad's voice looms over, demolishing Zara's vulnerable image.
Zara's triumphant smile fades when she realizes that I had ordered her out of here a few minutes ago. Yet, she stays. She is a feisty one. Not only did she challengly declare her position, she has caught Chad's attention. My hands curl into fists and my eyebrows furrow at the sight of Father, mockingly observing our interaction.
