“You need to stop.”
Blaze’s voice cracked through my skull like a whip.
His panic, rare and sharp, sliced through the haze of her scent.
“She's going to pass out. It’s too much,” he snapped.
My little wolf lay beneath me—
panting, trembling, flushed from head to toe.
Her breath hitched in uneven bursts, her body too small, too fragile to endure the intensity my curse demanded.
I shut off the device with a hard click.
Even without it, she still twitched—aftershocks rolling through her like echoes.
The curse coiled tight in my bones, burning, demanding more.
I need her.
Her scent.
Her heat.
Her everything.
But Blaze roared at me, furious, protective.
“We can’t claim her. She’s not ready.”
“I know,” I growled through clenched teeth. “But I need—”
“No.” Blaze’s voice shook. “N
