She couldn’t help but feel the creeping deja vu of history repeating itself. Regan was no longer a gawky, inexperienced teenager. Warren wasn’t Logan, she knew that. But the warmth felt the same. The comforting, sureness of his presence. It filled a void she didn't even realize was there. And goddesses how Regan wanted to reach for him.

But, as hard as it was, Regan nodded in agreement with a sad smile.

“Maybe…in the daylight. Without the whiskey. I just want to…” She shrugged, sighing, “I like talking to you. It helps.” Regan chuckled. "I sound crazy, I know that."

Oh, Regan knew what she wanted. Or at least. She thought she did. In fact, the images of what she wanted wouldn’t cease. They reeled through her mind in a spinning barrage of filth. It only gathered speed as Warren lifted her hand and kissed it.

Damn his decency.

For a moment, Regan just stared, panting like a dog left too long out in the sun without water. She reached up, brushing his cheek with her fingers as a shuddering breath left her.

The wolf rippled beneath her skin.

“I have to go.” Regan dropped her hand and turned to leave, but not before the glow in her eyes started to kindle enough to be seen. If she wasn't stopped, she'd exit his office after casting one last glance at him over her shoulder.