WALDEMAR, THE FORMIDABLE ALPHA, was now battling an enemy he couldn't see, couldn't fight with claw or tooth. His wolf, a roaring inferno of instinct and desire, screamed for Selene, for the physical completion of their Moonbind. But his rational mind, consumed by the terrifying prophecy, pushed her away. He saw his touch as poison, his presence a slow, agonizing drain on his own vitality.
He began to withdraw. It started subtly. He would avoid her gaze in the temple, burying himself in the indecipherable ancient texts long after Selene had given up for the day. His meals with the pack became shorter, his laughter rarer. He spent more time in the training grounds, pushing his body to the brink of exhaustion, as if he could outrun his fate, or burn the curse out of his system with sheer ph
