THE RAW, PRIMAL claiming that had ended. It left Selene a shell of her former self. The fire Waldemar had ignited within her still smoldered, a horrifying mix of unwelcome pleasure and deep, shaming surrender. Her body, a traitorous landscape, remembered every touch, every possessive caress, every whisper that had stripped her resistance bare. The Moonbind, once a demanding tether, now felt like a molten river flowing through her veins, a constant, undeniable link that pulsed with Waldemar’s every breath.
She woke hours later, bathed in the soft morning light filtering through the heavy drapes of Waldemar’s chamber. He was already gone, but his scent, wild and intoxicating, lingered on the sheets, on her skin. Her body ached, not from pain, but from a profound, unsettling release, a sense
