MAEVE'S POV
[MOMENTS EARLIER]
Muscle-sculpted, sun-kissed, pant-dropping—like the forest had decided to hand-deliver temptation itself. It took me a few stunned seconds to realize who it was.
Ivan Cross.
My breath caught in my throat.
What the actual hell was he doing out here—completely nude, like a scene ripped from one of the filthier daydreams I swore I'd buried?
Every instinct screamed at me to look away. I didn't. Couldn't.
It had been years since I'd seen him like this. And goddess, time had done him favors.
Hard, lean lines. Broad shoulders. That body had no business looking that fucking good.
Heat bloomed in my chest and dropped straight to my core the second my eyes dipped lower—to his size, the hanging monster between his legs—
And fuck—
My wolf began to pace. Hungry. Breathless.
Maeve, get a grip.
Think of your chosen mate!
Devon. Devon. Devon.
