Chapter 35: The Voice in The Howl
The river was quiet, save for the gentle sound of flowing water and the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. Lily sat waist-deep in the stream, arms wrapped around her knees, eyes staring blankly at the water’s surface. The moon’s reflection shimmered there, soft and silver.
She let the water run over her skin, scrubbing harder than she needed to wash away everything—grime, sweat... shame. But the memory clung stubbornly, like a stain beneath the surface.
The burning need coursing through her had gotten so bad, she’d done the only thing she could think of to stop herself from completely unraveling—she’d pleasured herself. Alone, shaking, and desperate.
The release had dulled the edge, but it hadn’t erased the truth that haunted her even more—at the worst of it, in the haze of the aphrodisiac, it was Zayn her body had craved. \
That realization clung tighter than anything else.
She dipped her head under the water, holding herself there longer than necessary. The cold numbed her face, but not her thoughts.
When she came back up, hair dripping and chest heaving, she exhaled shakily.
She wasn’t sure what felt worse—the ache the drug had left behind... or the fact that some part of her wanted him.
‘What do I do now?’ she thought.
She didn’t know where she belonged and didn’t know whom to trust anymore. She wasn’t even sure she trusted herself. Her body didn’t feel like hers lately. Not after what they’d made her wear. What they’d made her drink and what she had gone through tonight.
She leaned back slightly, letting her fingers drift through the water.
That’s when she heard it—howling in the distance.