When we kissed, it didn't matter that I had been a wolf hours ago, or that I would be a wolf again. It didn't matter that a thousand snares were laid for us as soon as we left this moment. All that mattered was this: our noses touching, the softness of his mouth, the ache inside me.

It wasn’t a touch that said I need more. It was a touch that said I want this.

I wasn’t sure if I was charmed by his reluctance to share a bed with a girl or insulted that, apparently, I wasn’t hot enough for him to charge the mattress like a bull.

Then I picked my book back up again and stroked her hair and read to the soundtrack of her breaths.

It was a life I didn’t want to leave behind.It was a life I didn’t want to forget.

Grace, who haunted my thoughts when I couldn’t dream

I might never ride Corr again. I don't know who I am without him.