Isla's POV
I sat in silence as he tugged his shirt over his head, muscles shifting under his skin, until the cloth came free.
My breath caught when I saw them, angry red grooves running across his back, jagged and deep, my own teeth marks carved into him like some savage claim.
Heat rushed to my face, not from guilt but from the mix of fury and shame twisting inside me.
I had been too proud to cry out, too humiliated to let the workers see me on the shoulder of their mighty Alpha.
So instead, I’d sunk my teeth into his flesh, clinging to the bitter thought that pain was the only protest left to me.
But what unsettled me most was that he hadn’t flinched. Not once. Every time my teeth dug deeper, hoping to break past his indifference, he carried me as if I were weightless, as if my
