Atlas had left me. Every moment since I came home two weeks ago and discovered her stuff missing had been a constant struggle to ignore my instincts—the animal prowling in my chest demanding I find his mate. Atlas had taken only what she came into the relationship with, making her “fuck you” even clearer. Still, I didn’t go after her. I was listening to a different set of instincts now. The ones that demanded I protect her—even from me. So, I drank.
