The crowd stilled and a hush fell over the meadow.
I turned as a big black wolf emerged from the tree line, power in every movement. His fur gleamed in the bioluminescent light, and his blue eyes locked onto me.
Oh no.
If this was Feral—and what kind of name was that?—I might be in trouble. This man was hot even in wolf form.
My body reacted before my brain could catch up, my heart rate spiking and my breath quickening. Every instinct I possessed recognized a predator.
He reached the head of the aisle and stalked down between the guests. Magic burst through the air, and he shifted mid-stride. The transformation rippled through him like water finding its level. Fur receded into bronze skin. Four legs became two. The wolf’s muzzle shortened and reformed into a strongjawline covered in dark stubble. His black hair fell past his shoulders, and he wore leather and furs that did absolutely nothing to hide the corded muscles of his frame.
I tried not to stare and failed completely.
This was the same man who’d looked at me across the ballroom at Sasha’s celebration. Then, he’d made my skin prickle with awareness and my normally logical brain short-circuit.
I’d assumed my response was an allergic reaction. He was a wolf. Maybe I was allergic to his fur or his… dark stare.
He strode toward me with the confidence of someone who’d never doubted his place in the world. His blue eyes never left mine, and I forced myself to stand straighter and keep my chin up.
I was a Thornwick witch. I didn’t wilt under anyone’s stare, wolf king or not.
When he reached the altar, he gave me a slow, thorough look that made heat crawl up my neck.
“You’re late,” I said.
His mouth quirked up on one corner. “Border patrol ran long. I was checking on a specific outpost where we’ve had issues.”
“Perhaps if you’d accounted for variables when planning your schedule?—”
The elder cleared his throat, his ceremonial robes decorated with lunar symbols shifting across his bare feet. He sniffed. Again. “Shall we begin?”
Feral growled, a sound I felt in my chest.
“Is there a problem?” I asked.
“The ceremony will take too much time.” His voice came out rough, like he didn’t use it often. “We should skip to the binding.”
“If you’d arrived on time, we’d be done already.”
He blinked at me, and his expression changed, a spark of what might be surprise or interest blooming there. “You’re not intimidated by me.”
“Should I be?”
“Everyone else is.”
“You’ll have to try harder if you want to frighten me.” I checked my timing spell again. “I have seventeen experiments waiting in various stages of completion, so if we could proceed?”
The elder’s lips twitched. “We gather under the ancient trees to witness the binding of King Feral Shadowpaw to Lady Victoria Thornwick. The old ways require blood and bond, hunt and heart.”
He continued with the traditional words while I tried to focus on the ceremony instead of the way Feral’s presence seemed to fill the entire grove. The man radiated heat like a woodstove, and the scent of pine and earth and something wild rolled off him in waves.
“The binding words,” the elder said, drawing my attention back to him.
Feral turned to face me, taking my hands in his. His palms were rough with calluses, his grip warm and firm. “I vow to hunt beside you, to protect what is yours, to defend our territory and pack with fangs and claws.”
Right. Primal wolf vows. I could do this.
“I vow to use my knowledge for our mutual benefit,” I said. “To apply logic and reason to our alliance, and to fulfill my duties as required by this contract.”
