Sovia’s POV
His fingers scorched like embers against my skin, but his words were even hotter.
In my past life, I had heard rumours about Prince Janova—that he was a cassanova . Others said he had a secret obsession with a woman that plagued his heart, which was why he never married. Which was it?
I swallowed hard, narrowing my eyes as I felt his hand on my lips. His thumb traced my lower lip. His scent hit me—dark musk and something sharper like a storm charged around raw danger.
It wrapped my senses, making my wolf restless. She whined with a pull I couldn’t understand.
“You won’t dare,” he murmured, the corner of his lip curving upward in a mocking challenge.
He slid it from my lips to cup my jaw, tilting my face higher. His towering frame cast me in shadow, his aura slamming again
