Cordella
The second Heston slipped from my body, the reality of what just happened crashed down on me like a tidal wave.
Not just the s*x. Goddess, the s*x—but everything around it.
The power surges. The bond.
The knot.
The way I begged for his mark like I was born to wear it.
And then he said it. Out loud.
Mate.
I sat up fast, sheets sticking to my skin, body sore and slick and still tingling in ways that felt dangerous.
My eyes landed on the necklace.
That damn pendant.
The one I’d so eagerly thrown off like it was nothing more than an accessory. I snatched it up like it might somehow undo what we’d done, even as the wolfsbane inside it seared my palm with heat.
I didn’t care. I needed something to ground me.
To protect me.
To remind me of who the hell I was before Heston B
