#Chapter 40: A Way Out
Karl
The sting of rejection pulses through me, acute and raw, as I distance myself from Abby’s place.
My footsteps echo through the quiet city streets, the usual hustle and bustle of the nightlife seemingly
dimmed tonight. Each step aligns with the rapid beat of my heart.
I can’t shake the feel of her, the nearness of our last moment.
Abby looked beautiful. She clearly put a lot of effort into her appearance today; her hair and nails
looked freshly done, she was wearing makeup, and a gorgeous dress.
A few years ago, I might have been bothered by the way that she dressed tonight. But lately, for some
reason I’ve been finding myself attracted to it. She’s se xy, always has been, but is somehow even
sexier now.
But what pi sses me off more than anything is that she was dressing like that for another man who
doesn’t even show any interest in her despite the ring he put on her finger. What gives? Why won’t she
just leave him already?
Shoving my hands deep into my pockets, I aimlessly kick a small rock ahead of me. Its journey,
haphazard and unpredictable, mirrors the state of my own emotions.
“She wanted me,” I find myself mumbling aloud, holding onto the raw intensity of our almost-kiss.
My wolf stirs within, a familiar presence anchoring my thoughts. “She did,” he rumbles in agreement.
“But she held back. If you’d just be patient and let her come to you, she’d see the depth of our love”
“I did let her come to me,” I reply. “She’s the one who called me tonight. But at the end of it, she still
can’t stop thinking about that pr ick.”
My wolf growls in annoyance. “Give her time.”
The anger is right there, bubbling at the surface. “Time? And for what? For Adam?” I snap, frustration
bleeding into every word. “Who leaves their fiancée high and dry like that? Especially when she clearly
in so much
in the distance snaps me back momentarily, but my wolf’s
“She’s changed. She’s not the young girl we
more nuanced. You have to
her tonight?” I spit. “The
The words come out more as a growl.
them out loud,
muses, a soft chuckle punctuating my thoughts. “She resisted
something.”
throat, frustration evident. “She wants me. It’s
every dam n second.”
in his rebuttal, his wisdom clear. “Wanting and acting on it
She’s cautious now. You can’t simply push
in a deep breath, letting the cold air fill my lungs. It’s
what my wolf says.
I murmur,
trust,” my wolf advises, his tone firm. “A
and when
thought. The journey back to my apartment is
face the solitude of my own space. But I
of what I need to do. Tomorrow, I’ll find a
rumbles in agreement, its presence a constant
from over.
…
long against the hardwood
the gentle flicker of a solitary candle on the
in contemplation, my fingers mindlessly caressing the leather armrest of my
and countless brooding sessions—much like the thoughts
my mind.
of his name leaves a sour taste in my mouth. Every time I
tonight, it’s not just Abby or
phone buzzes to life on the table beside me,
Swiping to answer,
“What’s up, Gianna?”
evident in the tone
know.”
on,” I urge,
seen around your foster brother’s residence.
coma,” she
to admit. My
dynamics of our pack. My grip tightens unconsciously around the phone. “Do we know
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