“It’s pack tradition,” I lied smoothly. “The mark is purified before an anniversary to strengthen it.”
Three days until I leave.
Lying to Rocco was becoming frighteningly natural.
He stared at me, his Alpha instincts screaming that something was wrong.
“Look me in the eye, Caterina,” he said, moving toward the bed. “You’re lying.”
I met his gaze without flinching.
“Rocco, I have no reason to lie.”
He placed the paper on the nightstand and sat down slowly on the edge of the bed.
He didn’t press the issue.
“Come here,” he said, his voice softening as he opened his arms. “I want to hold you.”
I obeyed, letting him pull me into his arms.
He held me tightly, his chin resting on the top of my head.
“Caterina, I love you,” he murmured in the darkness, his voice impossibly gentle. “You are my only Luna, the most precious thing in my life. No matter what happens, I will never let you leave me.”
“I need you to remember that.”
He was whispering all the right things, and his chest still held the familiar warmth I knew so well.
But my body was rigid, and my heart was a stone.
But Rocco felt none of the warmth he expected from our bond.
Before, whenever he held me like this, I would melt into him, my small movements and soft sighs telling him how much I loved him.
Now, there was nothing.
Only distance and resistance.
And the closer he got, the more severe the backlash of the rejection became. I knew he was suffering.
Both physically and mentally.
