Olivia's POV
"Olivia," Louis's voice cut through the rage inside me. His hands caught mine before I could pull away. "Please… calm down. Listen to me." My chest heaved, jealousy and fire still prickling under my skin, but the way he looked at me—steady, pleading—held me still. He guided me carefully toward the couch, his touch grounding, his steps slow as though afraid I'd bolt at any second. I sank onto the cushions, tense, my arms crossed, but I let him sit beside me.
"Everything I told you," he said, his voice low and tense, "was in the past. I swear it. You know me, Olivia—you know me better than anyone. I wasn't myself then. None of us were. If my head had been clear, if my heart had been… awake, I would never have touched another woman. Never."
His words sank into me, and deep down I knew they were true. I did know him. I knew the man sitting before me wasn't careless with his heart. My wolf, restless and protective, eased slightly at the raw honesty in his tone.
