Sally's POV
I hold Karl's gaze for what feels like forever, my pulse hammering against my throat. Can werewolves hear heartbeats? Because mine is thundering loud enough to wake the entire neighborhood.
His confession should send me running. Should have me building those walls even higher around my heart. Seven years of telling myself I was over him, seven years of pretending I didn't search for his face in every crowd, seven years of swallowing the ache that hit me whenever Warren smiled just like his father.
But sitting here now, watching him look at me like I'm his salvation, terror isn't what I feel.
"Karl," I breathe, his nickname falling from my lips like a prayer.
My eyes drop to the soup cooling in my bowl, needing somewhere safe to look while my world tilts off its axis.
"I'm not sure I can dive headfirst into this like you have. This mate bond you talk about, I don't feel it the way you do. I don't trust something I can't understand," I confess.
