Chapter 83: Scent
Lucas lay sprawled across Ava’s bed in the Luna’s quarters he had just newly refurbished. His face buried in her pillow, breathing in the only thing she had left behind; her scent. It was a cruel, intoxicating torment.
He squeezed his eyes shut, his jaw clenched so tightly that his teeth ached.
This was all he had now.
A scent. Memories.
A hollow ache that no amount of bloodshed or whiskey could numb.
His hand curled into a fist, gripping the blanket she had used for only a few weeks, the fabric still warm with the phantom of her touch.
Gods, he was pathetic.
The great Alpha of the Silver Pack, reduced to sniffing bedsheets.
He scoffed at himself but didn’t move.
Because if he moved, he would have to face the truth.
The truth that he had been wrong.