Damien's POV
She looked ruined. Beautifully so and I had done that.
I could still feel her body around me, the echo of her cries against my skin. The way she had begged. The way she had broken.
It had been perfect.
Primal. Uncontrolled. Every instinct I’d buried beneath duty and disappointment dragged to the surface by a single, stubborn little she-wolf in heat. But it wouldn’t last.
That’s the curse of heat—it passes. Always. No matter how perfect the match feels in the moment, it fades. And once it does, the hunger becomes memory. The bond becomes question.
She sat up in bed with the sheets clutched to her chest, eyes wide, skin still flushed from everything we’d just done. Her hair fell in loose, wild waves over her shoulders, her lips slightly parted like she didn’t know whether
