Victor’s pov
The cabin door slammed shut behind us, cutting off the howling wind. I laid Arielle gently on the old mattress, my hands trembling as I stepped back from her white wolf form.
Blood soaked her fur, the metallic scent driving my wolf into a panic.
There was a strange, undeniable pull wrapping around my chest, dragging me toward her with an intensity I couldn't explain.
I didn't understand it.
The prophecy had already made it clear that a male like me was never meant to have a mate.
This connection shouldn't exist, yet my wolf was practically clawing at my ribs to get closer to her.
"Arielle," I rumbled, pressing my forehead against her furry brow, desperation cracking my voice. "You need to shift back. I can't fix this while you're like this. Please."
Desperate to so
