I was shaking.
From adrenaline.
From remembering another time he’d asked me something like that in another life, too late.
I lifted my arm, letting him see the shallow gash.
“Not yet,” I said. “Don’t start.”
Something flickered across his face.
Like the phrase had landed somewhere deep.
Imprinted.
The rogues, seeing their cursed trump card fail, hesitated.
One snarled and lunged for Lucian’s exposed side.
Before he could close the gap, a large gray wolf—Rhett—hit him from the flank, teeth sinking into his shoulder, dragging him down.
Rhea, in human form, finished the job with a well‑placed strike of a spear butt to the skull.
“Alpha!” she shouted. “We’ve got the rest!”
Lucian’s hands tightened once more on my arms.
Then he let go.
He turned back into the fight with a roar, b
