#Chapter8 We ache

We ache. My wolf aches for Aaron’s scent that I’ve deprived her of for the better part of two months. She aches for the deep timbre of his voice and the piercing green of his eyes. She aches for the rare taste of him on my lips that resurfaced at the gala several days ago. She aches for his touch that I disrupted before fleeing the bathroom. I ache for all that, too. But not as much as I ache for the relief and confidence that flooded my system with the cameras pointed at me, and Henry at my side, happy to cede me the spotlight. Like there was finally a place for me in a world I’d been led to believe could never want me. So I continue working hard, leaning into this version of myself I always knew I could be. I’m just finishing up at the office when Henry knocks on the frame of my open door. I look up with a smile, increasingly happy here. “Getting ready to head out?” he asks, leaning against the door frame in navy slacks and a white button down with the top button undon