The cabin is *too* quiet.
The fire *crackles* in the hearth, the scent of *pine* and *blood* and *victory* thick in the air. The pack *surrounds* me, their dark eyes *burning*, their voices a low, hungry *growl*.
Knox is *pale*, his dark eyes *black* with hunger, his hand *tight* around mine. The *blood* from his wound has *dried* on his skin, the scent of *copper* *clinging* to him.
*Fuck.*
I *hate* this.
I *love* this.
I’m *theirs*.
---
The door *creaks* open.
A *messenger* *steps* in, his dark eyes *wide*, his voice a *whisper*. *"The Alpha Council *demands* your presence, Luna,"* he says, his voice *trembling*. *"The omega laws have been *broken*."*
*Fuck.*
The pack *tenses*, their dark eyes *burning*, their voices a low, hungry *growl*.
Knox’s dark eyes *flash*, his voice
