Before Roxanne could drive her claws into what remained of Dietrich's chest, a soft, trembling hand caught her wrist. "Don't kill him," Vivianne whispered, not weakly, but with a chilling, purposeful calm. "Not yet."
Roxanne's snarl died in her throat. The demon-wolf hybrid inside her bucked angrily, demanding the final strike, wanting to tear the monster apart for every scar he'd carved into Vivianne's past life and this one.
But the moment she met Vivianne's eyes, soft, determined, and unblinking, the raging tempest inside her abruptly stilled. A thread tugged inside her chest. The mate bond. The grounding force is stronger than every instinct screaming to finish the kill.
Roxanne's jaw flexed. "Vivianne, he—"
"I know," Vivianne said, voice steady as she stepped closer.
