Seven

SKY POV

Leaning back against the door, I took a few deep breaths to calm my racing heart. Bringing my hand up, I looked at it; the tingles from where Zeke had touched me were slowly subsiding. I had forgotten how powerful those sensations were, how they shot through me like electricity. Slowly, I relaxed, hearing him walk down the corridor, still on the phone to his mystery girl. A girl I claimed not to care about.

"You know you have super hearing, right? If you had just piped down, I could have given you the answers without the theatrics." Evie, my wolf, funnelled into my mind.

"And where's the fun in that?" I retorted with a snort that was anything but dainty, which earned me a sigh from Evie. 

"You still have feelings for him," she stated matter-of-factly. 

"Feelings? Like indigestion?" I shot back, trying to deflect with humour. Evie wasn't having any of it. 

"More like the heartache you pretend doesn't rip through you every time you hear his name."

I pressed my lips tightly together, unable to counter because she was right. 

"Let's not do this now," I murmured, feeling a sudden tightness in my chest.

"But we will have this conversation, Sky, we have to." I scowled, irritated with her sudden boldness. I was not sure how to answer this question, but ultimately, she probably knew me better than I knew myself. 

"I need to shower; I feel dirty," I groaned dramatically. Stripping off my clothes, I headed for the shower, hoping to wash away my frustration and the day's grime. "After a night in that cell, the drive here and then Z... I just want to wash the day away."  I sighed, feeling a tightness in my chest that made me uncomfortable.

"But not your hand, right?" Evie giggled as I rolled my eyes.

"That I will be dipping in bleach to get whatever STI he has off me." I yapped, knowing I didn't mean it. 

"Sure thing." Evie laughed gently. It was strange how I used to share everything with my wolf, how she was my confidante in everything pack life entailed, the hours we spent working out what I wanted and how to get it. Hours she put up with me whining about Neos's cruel games and Z's sexy... everything. Not once did she moan about it. If anything, through our bond, I knew she loved how close we were just as much as I did. 

However, despite our closeness, the second I ran from the pack, I made the hard decision to run from all the things that made me special, including Evie. So sadly, after I left, I shut her out; I shut everything out that reminded me of what I'd lost, of what I was trying to forget. Yet here she was, the persistent voice in my head, nudging me back to a reality I wasn't sure I wanted to face again.

My bathroom was a typical teenage retreat, cluttered yet comforting. The walls were plastered with posters of punk bands, the same ones that adorned my bedroom. The tiles were a deep purple, matching the walls of my room, and the shower curtain featured a skull and crossbones design. Old concert tickets and photos of me with friends were taped to the mirror, slightly faded from the steam.

Stepping into the shower, I let the hot water cascade over me, the steam enveloping me in a warm, soothing embrace. I tried to forget about Zeke, to push him out of my mind, but it was impossible. He was all I could think about.

Seeing him in the hallway had been a punch to the gut. The moment our eyes locked, my breath caught in my throat, my pulse quickened, and a rush of emotions I thought I had buried surged back to the surface. His scent—earthy and masculine, tinged with pine and the faintest hint of his cologne—was intoxicating. It made my head spin, filled my lungs, and refused to let me think straight.

His smile, that cheeky smirk that made my knees weak, lingered in my mind. Those mismatched eyes, one a deep, soulful green and the other a striking, icy blue, seemed to pierce through me, undressing me with a single glance. I remembered how they used to look at me, full of warmth and desire. Now, they were still the same eyes, but there was an edge to them, a darkness that hadn't been there before.

His body was superb, honed to perfection from years of training and fighting. Muscles rippled under his tan skin, and I could remember the feel of those strong arms around me, the way his hands seemed to know exactly where to touch. He was even more chiselled than before if that was even possible.

And then there was his voice—that deep, husky voice that drove me crazy and made me want to melt into him every time he spoke. It was a voice that could command a room and make me shiver with just a single word. It was the voice of a man who knew what he wanted and wasn't afraid to take it.

As the hot water poured over me, I let out a frustrated sigh. Why did he have to be so irresistible? Why did my body betray me every time he was near? I leaned my head against the cool tiles, closing my eyes as the steam swirled around me. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get him out of my head.

"Damn him," I muttered, my voice echoing softly in the small bathroom. "Damn him for making me feel like this."

Sighing, I adjusted the water so it was nice and warm and tried to distract myself by washing my hair, my lips curling into a smirk seeing the slightest trace of pink circling the drain. The pink-tinged water flowed down my perky breasts and over my somehow flat stomach to the v between my legs. Despite the warmth from the spay, my nipples were as hard as I had ever felt them. I felt something incredibly sensual and arousing about the way things were playing out; I hated Z for what he had done to me, but there was denying that he was damn sexy, and, like me, he still felt that spark. 

Maybe this could be fun after all.