[Lyra’s POV]
I had been running for my entire life. I ran from abusive pack leaders, I ran from starvation, and I ran from the cold. Survival was the only law I knew.
But as I stood in the moonlit clearing of the Whispering Woods, looking up at the towering, impossibly handsome Prince of the Blood Moon Pack, every single survival instinct in my brain was screaming in total, catastrophic confusion.
He had just obliterated three massive feral wolves with a single blow. He had shifted from a terrifying, silver-streaked monster back into a man. And now, he was standing completely naked in the freezing night air, looking at me as if I were the most precious thing in the entire world.
The warmth from his fingertips where he had healed my cheek was still sending violent, golden electrical spa
