His voice is quiet enough that I have to hold my breath to hear it.
“I tried to stop wanting you the way I’ve stopped everything else my wolf has wanted for two decades. I can suppress the shift. I can suppress the hearing and the scent and the eyes. But I cannot suppress YOU. My soul won’t let you go, Ivy. Whatever part of me that is wolf recognized you the same way my son’s wolf did, and the recognition is not something I can grade into submission or annotate into compliance or file under professional restraint.”
The confession lands in my chest like something breaking open, because this is not the Dominic Voss I know.
He does not confess. He simply analyses, evaluates, annotates, and delivers verdicts from behind desks and composure – but the man standing in front of me with amber ey
