The drums of the night had not yet quieted, and already the power was thrumming through him.
Steel could feel it—every pulse, every thread— belonging to the packs that had come to bend the knee. Their pledges sang in his blood; old magic awakened, vivid in his veins.
He’d been strong before.
Now, he felt immortal.
He shifted slightly on the furs. The early sun filtered through the canvas of the war tent, warm on his skin. Beneath his hand, Asher stirred—soft and breath steady against his chest. Her skin smelled like foxfire and morning rain.
His woman. His mate. His equal.
She moved, sighing as his arm tightened around her. Without thinking, his body answered—hard and heavy, pressed against her thighs.
He’d woken to her like this before — but now it felt different.
The bond between
