I’d been determined to find another way. I needed her, but I refused to force her. I couldn’t endanger her. In the end, it had all been for naught. Fia was here, and she had every right to hate me. In fact, this might just be more bearable if that were all she felt. But it wasn’t. Her scent suffocated, the shape of her hips memorized by my hands. They trembled, raking through my hair. The sickness had returned, but it was now at war with the primal urge to fight for her surrender.
