The chamber was quiet except for the steady rhythm of breathing.

Karl stood near the edge of the bed, watching the woman seated before him. Rey looked calm, almost too calm for what was about to happen.

Her dark hair fell loosely over her shoulders, the candlelight catching faint gold in its strands. She hadn’t tried to leave, she hadn’t argued, she simply waited.

Karl’s wolf paced beneath his skin, restless and impatient. The scent of her filled the room, warm, magnetic, impossible to ignore. Ever since the ritual weeks ago, the urge to claim her had grown stronger with every passing day.

The instinct had stopped feeling like a...