CIARA
The fever was entirely gone, and so was the man who had torn iron chains apart just to press me against his chest.
Hayes sat at the head of the long mahogany dining table, looking completely restored. The dark gray sleeves of his button-down shirt were rolled up to his thick forearms, completely hiding the jagged stitches from the silver ambush. He looked exactly like the untouchable, merciless tyrant who had bought my bloodline from Riverstone in the first place.
He hadn't looked at me once since I sat down at the opposite end of the table.
"The southern border report is on your desk, Alpha," a senior warrior murmured, stepping up to Hayes’s side with a thick leather-bound folder. "The patrols have been doubled as requested."
"Leave it," Hayes commanded coldly. His voice was a
