Lykaios’s POV
I paced the confines of my study until the soles of my boots wore grooves into the stone floor, my wolf pacing right alongside me in the dark landscape of my mind. The sensation was relentless, an intrusive, vibrating hum that had settled behind my eyes. I had tried to submerge myself in pack matters, in the administrative rot of ruling, but the bond was a jagged hook in my chest, constantly jerking me toward a destination I refused to acknowledge.
It was impossible. The bond between us should have withered the moment I walked away from her that night in the woods. It should have been shattered entirely by the sentencing, by the thousands of strokes, by the cold, damp silence of the dungeon walls that had become her prison. A mate bond was a sacred, ancient alignment; it wa
