The cheers of the pack still echoed in my ears as Lucian and I stepped off the platform, the cord still binding our hands, the bond thrumming like a live wire between us. The torchlight danced across his face, casting sharp shadows over his jaw, and for a moment, I let myself feel it—the weight of what we’d just done, the wild, unsteady rush of it. The pack pressed in, their voices a roar of celebration, but something gnawed at the edge of my senses, a prickling unease I couldn’t shake.
Lucian felt it too. His grip on my hand tightened, his body shifting subtly, like a predator catching a scent. “Stay close,” he murmured, his voice low enough that only I could hear.
I nodded, my free hand brushing the hilt of the blade at my hip. The ceremony was over, the mark sealed, but the night felt
