The den felt heavier now. Every breath carried tension. Every movement echoed like a warning. I sat on the furs, still recovering from the last wave, but the heat was no longer just a storm. It had become a low, constant burn that threaded through my veins, whispering, reminding me that nothing would ever be the same.
This is wrong. This should feel wrong. Why does it not?
Thorne leaned against the wall, arms crossed, eyes sharp as a predator. He was not watching me the way he had before. He was testing. Calculating. Waiting to see how far I would go before instinct pushed me back into submission.
He expects me to break. To crawl back into their control like I always have. But something inside me is changing. I can feel it. And it terrifies me how much I want to see how far it goes.
Au
