The night in Moon's Fang enveloped the pack house like a dark cloak, the wind whispering secrets through the pines surrounding the pack's bastion of power. My room—our marital room—was lit by the faint moonlight that filtered through the curtains, casting dancing shadows on the walls carved with wolf symbols. I sat on the edge of the bed, my body trembling with a consuming mix of rage and desire. The silver chain still burned around my neck, suffocating Clarissa, but his presence throbbed in my mind, a low growl fueling the chaos inside me. I hated Ethan—hated him for k********g me, for forcing me, for making me his prisoner. The way he'd entered my office, his anger when he smashed his cell phone on the floor, the fear I'd felt at that moment was still simmering, pressing against my stoma
