Clara
Three years later
His large, burning hands gripped my body so tightly I could barely breathe.
“Let me go. Now,” I gasped out, my voice breaking.
“Let you go?” he mocked, his hot, aroused breath scorching my ear.
“You’re hurting me,” I repeated, but softer this time.
His hold loosened—only to spin me around, forcing me to face him. His eyes were no longer human. His pupils were wide with hunger, and the warm brown of his irises had shifted into a glowing gold—an unmistakable mark of the Alpha, born of an ancient line of werewolves.
“I will never let you go, Clara,” he growled before crushing his lips against mine.
At first, I resisted. My mind screamed at me to push him away. But while my thoughts fought, my body betrayed me, melting into the fire of his desire.
Without break
