*Storm's POV*

I wasn't sure how i felt. It was mid-afternoon and gruelingly hot. We've been riding on a moderate pace since sunup, without a break. We finally paused, Scott sat in front of me, as he had whenever we rode, and he had one forearm braced around my waist. Sometimes I could feel his breath on my nape and it was disturbing. At this point, the sight of him disgust me.

He, too, was silent. What was he thinking about? Was he also regretting everything? I thought that maybe this was never part of his plan.

"Finally!" He said, walking into the pack's hospital.

At this point I was...