Chapter 3.
GRAYSON CLAMPED DOWN on his wolf, hard, who howled like the moon was at its highest. He used every bit of his self-control not to pull his mate in for a kiss.
What would his mouth taste like? Would it have the flavours that he’d dreamed of? Those special hormones or whatever they were, that he’d searched for in every kiss he’d ever had. Those flavours of ecstasy that he innately knew existed, had been hinted at through some of the best of those kisses that had always fallen short.
His heart had ached for years, waiting to feel the closeness of his mate. To have all those things that he would share with the one destined for him. The feelings that he would have, not for just one day but for all his life.
There was no denying the fact that Reagan was his. He’d heard the legend
