Kael
Marcus dropped the bag onto the table, dust rising from the broken leather. The handles were knotted tight, but he yanked them loose with one sharp pull.
He turned it over, letting the contents pour out.
A knife clattered against the wood, its bone handle stained from years of use. Next came pouch, money spilling out in a mix of different currencies. A folded map, creased and stained with dirt. A bundle of dried food wrapped in cloth.
Kael leaned back, arms crossed. He looked over each item, cataloging them, but his mind wasn’t entirely in the room. His fingers folded against the chair’s arms, heat still burning against his skin.
Isolde.
His jaw clenched hard.
He had been too close last night. Too close to marking her. The instinct had nearly won; his wolf had wanted it, his
