But it…diminishes.
Something inside me fully loosens, a tension I have carried for centuries, suddenly going slack. The constant hum of Crave’s presence in the back of my mind, the awareness of his location and emotional state that I’ve carried like a second heartbeat, is still there.
Just quieter.
Softer.
Background noise instead of the primary signal.
And rushing in to fill that space, drowning out everything else, isher.
I feel her terror, the confusion of waking up wrong, changed, hungry beyond reason, and unable to satisfy it, no matter how much she feeds. I feel her bloodlust, a new vampire’s uncontrollable need that drives every rational thought into screaming, feral hunger. I feel her exhaustion, the way her body is running on instinct alone, barely keeping her upright.
And beneath it all, I feel the pull.
Theneedto go to her.
To shield her.
To stand between her and every threat in this world and dare anything to try getting through me.
Every oath I’ve ever sworn to Crave, every duty I’ve carried for my bloodline, every purpose I’ve built my life around—it’s all still there.
But it’s not…primaryanymore.
She is.
The fated mate bond doesn’t ask permission.
It just…is.
And it’s rewriting everything I thought I understood about duty, loyalty, and what it means to be a lycan.
I’m vaguely aware of Scorch moving beside me, his heat signature flaring as he prepares to defend against a hostilevampire. I’m distantly conscious of Dread’s fear aura creeping forward, ready to lock her down if she attacks.
But all I can focus on isher.
And the way myentire worldhas just tilted on its axis.
“Stand down,” I hear myself say, my voice coming out rougher than usual, layered with the lycan growl I usually keep buried. “Don’t fucking hurt her.”
Scorch’s head whips toward me. “What? Rogue, she’s feral. Look at her… she’s about to—”
“I said… stand down!” The command rips out of me with enough force that even Scorch takes a step back, his dragon instincts recognizing an Alpha protecting his mate.
Because that’s what this is.
That’s what she is.
Mine!
Her eyes, beautiful even glazed with bloodlust, even wild with hunger, flicker between the others and me. She’s trying to decide if we’re threats or food. Her fangs are fully descended, her body coiled tight, a spring about to snap.
I take a step toward her.
She hisses, the sound feral and terrifying.
But I take another step.
