But—but then she realized how stupid all of this was.
Her heart was still racing like a trapped bird inside her chest, but her legs… they weren't trembling anymore. The ground beneath her was firm. Steady. Her balance had returned, the feverish fog finally thinning from her limbs.
She could stand.
On her own.
The realization struck like cold water.
She blinked and peeled herself off of Cyrus, whose strong tail reluctantly unwound from her waist like a creature loathe to let go of its prize. His arms, which had been a silent shelter, hesitated for a breath—just one heartbeat—before releasing her.
She didn't notice.
Her thoughts were too loud. Her pulse too sharp. Her breath caught and jittered in her chest, overwhelmed by the humiliating memory of Zyran's finger, his smirk, her moan.
Gods. What the hell was wrong with her?
"No, no—" she blurted out, the words tumbling from her lips as she took two wide steps back. "I'm not mating anyone!"
