RHETT
The steering wheel groans under my grip, the leather protesting as I squeeze it hard enough to snap the column, and every mile we travel back toward the estate feels like a mile closer to the edge of my sanity. Beside me, Nola is quiet, but her scent sweet, floral, and laced with the sharp, metallic tang of fear and arousal is filling the cabin of the SUV, hitting my senses like a physical blow.
The wolf is pacing. He’s been pacing since the moment Marcus laid eyes on her, his claws dragging across the lining of my soul, snarling at the cage I’ve kept him in for twenty-three years. Mine, the beast howls, a vibration that starts in my marrow and settles in my teeth. Mark her. Claim her. Tear out the throats of anyone who looked at her.
"Rhett? You’re shaking the car," Nola whispers
