DANTE
Morning arrives with Sadie wrapped around me like salvation. Through the completed bond, I feel her dreams—lightning and earth, belonging and choice, memories of last night that make her pulse quicken even in sleep. The claiming mark on her throat has already begun its transformation from wound to declaration, raised and perfect where everyone will see.
My own mark throbs in answer, her claim on me just as permanent, just as visible. Let them all see that the Alpha of Portland belongs to his mate as thoroughly as she belongs to him.
"Stop thinking so loud," she murmurs against my chest, not opening her eyes. "Too early for territory politics."
"Never too early for territory politics. Especially when I've acquired ten new ones overnight."
That gets her attention. Hazel eyes snap
