Blake POV
Elle slept; she would be doing that a lot.
Not soundly—wolves in heat never truly did—but enough that her trembling eased. Her breathing softened into a rhythm that brushed against my senses like a fragile melody. She lay curled in the bedding, her back still pressed to the place my body had been a moment ago, chasing the warmth I pulled away.
Even sightless, her face held a softness that made my chest tighten painfully.
My mate.
The word echoed through me like a struck chord—sharp, vibrating, impossible to unhear now that it had been spoken aloud.
But with that admission came the curse.
Not creeping, not whispering.
Crashing.
A violent wave of molten fire tore through my arteries, my vision flashing in jagged bursts of red-gold. My breath hitched as the magic clawed at
