CHAPTER 7 : THE WEIGHT OF THE ICE CROWN
THALYS
The soul bond is not a metaphor. It is a three-ton anchor hooked into my gut, a piano wire stretched to the breaking point that vibrates every time Elowen lets out a sigh in her sleep. Leaving my room that morning, I felt as if I were being flayed alive. Every step I took away from her quartz bed tore away a piece of my sanity.
Ivan, my leopard, was howling for blood inside my skull. Go back there. She is alone. She is cold. She needs our protection.
“Shut up, Ivan,” I growled through gritted teeth as I strode down the corridor of my private suite.
I had to act. An Alpha could not remain eternally at the bedside of a wounded wolf, even if every fiber of my being commanded me to do so. The Blue Glacier was on high alert. The air in the for
