Ryan

I leaned back in my chair, the leather creaking beneath me as I stared at the ceiling. Five days had passed since the attack on Lyra, and still, the doubts about her lingered. They left a bitter, acrid taste on the back of my tongue.

Every time I was near her, my heart raced in a mix of desire and rage. I wanted her, every inch of my body screamed for her, but my mind...my mind kept me claiming what I craved. The curve of her hips, the way her hair cascaded down her ...