Twigs and stones dig into the soles of my feet as we run into the copse of trees that lead to the Western Gate.
The wind whips my hair into my face, and rain is falling between the branches, seeping through the thin material of my nightgown. The sound of howling and the clash of steel follow us, coming from the outdoor kennels somewhere behind us. The night is thick with the woody scent of fire.
I should be alarmed. Yet all my senses are trained on the alpha’s hand, clasped around mine. I feel the ungodly strength in his fingers, and the callouses that make his hand so very different to my mother’s, the only hand I have ever clasped before this one.
Heat seems to spread from the place where our skin touches and it travels up my arm.
I took his hand willingly. I don’t know what that mea
