The Crescent Room pulsed with masculine energy as I pushed the door open with my hip, careful to balance the tray of expensive liquor. My heart thundered in my chest like a wild animal trying to escape its cage. The moment I stepped inside, my wolf began whining—a mournful sound that echoed through my mind, recognizing what I desperately wanted to deny.
He was here. Rhys Knight. My mate. My nightmare.
I scanned the room quickly, my eyes inevitably drawn to his commanding presence. Rhys sat in the center of a plush leather couch, legs spread confidently, one arm draped across the back. His shoulders were broader than I remembered, his jawline sharper, more defined. The bad boy I'd known had transformed into something more dangerous—a man of cold, calculated power.
