CHAPTER SIXTY

|•| ANDRÉ BAUDELAIRE |•|

I could almost taste the relief on my tongue when I crept out of the shadows and saw the lights on in her room. My forehead automatically creased into a frown because, again, her windows weren't locked and her curtains were lazily pulled together, plunging my body into a reflex that made me clench my hands in a tight fist. But then, it soon dawned on me that my sense of protectiveness and anger right now was useless because my nature had driven a long-lasting wedge between us.

I shut out those thoughts and moved swiftly across the street, closing the distance between the tree I was hiding behind and her apartment in a matter of seconds. A trail of excitement mixed with nervousness shot up my spine as I pushed the sheer curtains aside, but it was nothing compared to the satisfaction that filled me up when I caught her scent that lingered in the room.

It came with a sense of newness that left me starving for more. It was as though I hadn't smelt her in ages when