95

“Han Solo had a scar. I bet you like him.”

She rolled her eyes. “I like you better. And yeah, I’m sure your scar will be badass and sexy, okay?”

I chuckled. “Fuck you, Han. My girl likes me better.”

She kept playing with my hair, which did absolutely nothing to calm my dick down, but I didn’t want her to stop. I needed her touching me.

“Tell me what happened.” Her tone was filled with a plea for honesty.

My gaze locked on hers, the pain in those beautiful irises breaking my heart a little. “Honestly, it’s a blur. We were running, trying to work off some tension.”

“We?”

“Me, Chad, Derek. They’re going to be my betas. When I take over.”

“And?”

“We can’t shift, but we still need to run. So we hit the woods. I should’ve smelled the brimstone, but I didn’t. Fuckers came out of nowhere.”

“Fuckers? There were more than one of them?”

“Two... I think.” I lifted a hand to my head with a groan. “That’s really all I remember. My brain feels like scrambled eggs. Mmm... eggs.”