Bailey's POV
“What does that mean,” I asked, staring at him because my mind refused to land anywhere solid, “say it in words that don’t sound like a warning wrapped in a riddle.”
Rider did not look away, his voice steady but careful, “It means your wolf has already decided regardless of what either of us chooses, and the longer the natural mark is suppressed without a formal marking to anchor it, the more painful it will become.”
“Painful how,” I pressed, my hands curling at my sides, “define painful.”
“It will spread,” he said, “it will affect your ability to think clearly when you are near me, near Declan, near Raven, and if it reaches your neck without being anchored it could burn through incomplete, and that is dangerous in ways I do not want to explain yet.”
My throat tightened,
