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To all my girls who struggle to move on from things you could not control.
I realized I’d given my heart away to a woman who had left me high and dry without so much as a verbal goodbye. I swore then that I would never again let myself be pulled in by Ciara Callaghan.
Slow down, don’t get ahead of yourself, I heard Aurelia whisper in my mind. You’ll arrive at your destination no matter what Ciara, but if you run headlong you’ll miss the journey.
When was I ever going to learn that every interaction I had with Ciara Callaghan would inevitably end this way?
I sometimes liked to think I lived in some kind of cute Rom-Com. Something like The Adventures of Artie, Enzo, Leith, and two crazy dogs—it was a working title at this point, but I was pretty sure it had all the makings of a bloody Hallmark movie.
Even though Ciara was baggage and a half, as soon as I’d gotten a whiff of her scent at the Olympics and again clinging to Leith’s skin after their confrontation in the hotel, I’d been nursing the teensiest, tiniest crush on the female alpha.
If I couldn’t get her to move back to wherever the hell she came from, then I’d protect my packmates from her blast radius. Even if they hated me for it.
Bad memories were a lot like ghosts. If you gave them any attention, then they gained more power over you.
My inner alpha didn’t give a flying fuck what my personal rules were, nor did she seem to care that she kept getting me into trouble because we couldn’t seem to keep it in our knickers because of her.
