The Silver Wolf insisted he did not believe in sorcery, but Alys had no other explanation for the tumult he conjured so easily beneath her flesh. His kisses dissolved her objections to him and his touch. His caress drove all protest from her thoughts, leaving her burning with a need she could not explain. She knew he could sate the desire he awakened within her, though she knew not precisely how. She hated how she forgot her resolve to fight him, how she became pliant and welcoming, how she met him touch for touch.
But this hunger he awakened was undeniable, irresistible, and she could think only of having more.
Until he pierced her maidenhead and froze.
Without his beguiling caress, her objections returned with a vengeance. She was abed with her husband atop her because her determinati
