Kieran

Watching her sleep, I feel a primal stirring in my chest.

Daciana lies on her stomach, the sheet tangled around her hips, leaving her back bare to the morning light filtering through the curtains. Marks litter her pale skin: red scratches, bruises already blooming purple, the imprint of my teeth on her shoulder.

Pride rather than guilt surges through me. Mine. The wolf in me practically purrs at the sight, at the proof that she belongs to me.

It has been three days since we mated, and I haven’t been able to keep my hands off her. Every time I think I’m satisfied, she makes some small sound or...