Ava's POV
I haven't seen him in days. Not since after he told me the truth.
I told myself it was for the best—ghosting a wolf should be easy, right? Run away. I blocked his number. Declined every meeting. Ignored the buzzing of the pendant he gave me when it began to warm against my skin.
I buried myself in schedules, in headlines, in revenge plans that suddenly felt like nothing compared to the new world Dante was from.
He's a wolf.
Not metaphorically.
A real. Actual. Wolf.
And he says I'm his mate.
His mate
But here I am, sitting in the dark, staring at my phone like it might ring.
Like he might call.
The worst part? I don't even know what I'd do if he did. Hang up? Or listen to that deep, velvet voice that makes my chest feel like it's folding in on itself?
"He's a wolf," I whisper to myself, like that fact alone should be enough to end my inner conflict. "He turns into a giant wolf, Amelia. A creature out of nightmares. You don't get attached to something like that. You run."
And I had.
But now? I don't feel safe. I feel hollow.
Because even with all the danger, the possessive glint in his eyes—I never felt more seen than I did in his presence.
God. That look in his eyes. Like I was some sacred thing he didn't know how to touch without reverence. Like he'd tear down the world just to make space for me and make me happy.
I shake my head. No. That's the stupid bond talking. It doesn't mean he cares. Doesn't mean he won't hurt me.
So why do I keep hoping?
I draw my knees to my chest and bury my face against them, breathing in the scent of pine drifting through the open window. It smells like him. Wild. Earthy. Comforting in a way that makes me want to just forget his wolf part.
I hate this.
I miss him.
And I'm scared that missing him means I'm already halfway back in his arms.