Lorenzo
The bear’s blood still clung to my hands.
Even after the pack dragged the carcass deeper into the woods, even after the wolves howled in triumph beneath the moon, I stood rooted to the spot, staring at her.
Sindy.
She was pressed against the tree, her chest heaving, her eyes wide and shining with fear. The scent of it rolled off her in waves, sharp and bitter. It cut deeper than the claws raking my side had.
Because it wasn’t just fear of the bear.
It was fear of me.
I could feel it in the bond, in the way her heart stuttered when my gaze met hers. My body still thrummed with the aftermath of the fight—blood roaring in my veins, my wolf pacing restless and unsatisfied. The instinct to claim her, to press her against that tree and remind her exactly who she belonged to, nearl
