But now, even that was gone. She was certain she was the happiest she-wolf alive.
Maxwell stayed quiet, a faint smile playing on his lips.
He led her to the balcony, his voice low. "I'm good to you. But what about you, Madeline?"
She pressed herself against his chest, all soft and adoring.
"I'll always be good to you, my mate. I love you. I'll love you forever, and every day, I love you more than the last."
She stood on her tiptoes, kissing his lips.
Maxwell wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her back.
His skill held an undeniable allure, and the kiss lingered—deep, slow, smoldering. It clung, hot and hungry, as if each brush of lips, each soft sigh tangled between them.
Madeline was breathless, her face flushed, when he finally pulled away, his fingers brushing her swollen
