The fading echoes of our climax still lingered in the heavy, stifling air around us. Sweat slicked my deep-toned skin, mingling with his own tanned skin, our bodies pressed together so tightly that I could feel the frantic, pounding rhythm of my heart double matched to the steady beat of his. The ruined parchment maps and discarded iron daggers lay scattered across the floor, remnants of the warlord’s last desperate strategy, but now they seemed insignificant, swallowed by the raw intimacy of what we had just shared. I lay breathless, my lungs heaving, eyes wide with a mixture of exhaustion and anticipation. I expected the great Lycan King to immediately begin barking orders, to summon Lochlan and his men for the assault, to prepare for the slaughter waiting at Terracotta Village. I expect
