The air in the guest wing didn't just vibrate; it shrieked. The scent of jasmine and honey, once a gentle reminder of spring, was now so thick it felt like a physical weight, a golden, suffocating fog that blinded Cassian to the reality of the ruined room around him. His wolf was no longer a passenger in his mind; it was at the surface, its claws digging into the floorboards of his psyche, howling a single, deafening word that drowned out reason:
**MATE.**
Cassian lunged forward with a speed that blurred the candlelight. His massive hands grasped Elena’s shoulders with a strength that would have shattered a lesser woman’s bones. He didn't care about the laws of the pack, the etiquette of the throne, or the fact that he was currently trespassing in his own guest wing.
He needed to feel
