Thunder Wolfgang. The future alpha of Wolfgang Pack. Margaux’s ex-fiancé. The arrogant pup who’d paraded his claim until Leon tore it out from under him. I remembered the stench of liquor on him, the bitterness in his eyes the last time I’d seen him at council. His pride had been gutted clean.
And now Margaux—no, Marigold—was living as Leon’s bride-to-be. Guarded by me. Out of Thunder’s reach.
Unless he’d found a way back in.
I stilled in the shadow of the hedges, fists curling, chest heaving. My wolf clawed at me, begging for release, demanding I shift and rip this impostor to shreds before he could so much as breathe near her again.
Not yet. Not until I was certain.
But if it was Thunder—if that coward thought he could creep through my territory, watch her, leave his twisted little
