Alina stepped into the morning light, trying to anchor herself in the mundane rhythm of the marketplace. The scent of fresh bread and the spice of roasted nuts filled the air, but beneath it all, a pulse thrummed in her wrist—the mark’s subtle reminder that she was far from ordinary. The warmth from Riven’s claim the night before still lingered on her skin, a fire that refused to fade. And Kael… his shadowed presence tugged at her mind, teasing her with unspoken ownership, the memory of his eyes pressing into her soul.
Why can’t I think straight? she whispered to herself as she brushed past a cart of apples. The Veil was awake, coiling beneath her skin, responding to every pulse of desire, every memory of dominance. Last night’s surrender to Riven had awakened something primal, but Kael’s
