CHAPTER TWELVE
My heart races, the echo of it throbbing in my ears like a drumbeat. I lean against the cold brick wall of the alley next to the pack house. The indents of Henry’s fingers still linger on my waist, his scent clinging to my skin—a mix of pine and something uniquely him. The taste of his kiss, sweet and hesitant, haunts my lips.
I shouldn't have kissed him. The thought cuts through the warmth that had spread through me moments ago. It's not what I'm here for; I'm supposed to be his shield, his guardian from the shadows that hunger for his light. Not his lover. Guilt claws at my insides, sharp and demanding attention. I press my palms into my eyes, trying to crush the memory of how right it felt.
"Hey, you look like you've seen a ghost," Lucy says, her voice slicing through
