Darius’ POV
I led Kira into my room. She stepped in without a word, quietly shutting the door behind her. I didn’t acknowledge her. Instead, I went straight to the bar, grabbed a bottle of whiskey, and poured myself a glass. I took a slow sip, letting the burn distract me before I finally turned around.
Mine.
My wolf growled possessively, the word hitting me like a shot to the chest. I clenched my jaw, scowling, forcing my eyes to rake over her figure. She wasn’t in that damn maid uniform tonight. No. She wore a flowing gown that clung to her body, high slits on either side revealing flashes of her smooth thighs. My throat tightened.
I swallowed hard, my gaze glued to her skin—her neck, her collarbone. And then I saw them.
Faint bruises. Red marks. Hickeys.
The memory of my lips on h
