"He was the definition of strength, power, and territorial command. And I was the color of a ghost, unique and utterly, proudly claimed."
The fear and the frantic strategy could wait. We were lying naked in the cool moss of the East Clearing, the heavy, beautiful scent of our mating still thick around us. Alaric was half-covering me, his breathing deep and steady, his powerful hand stroking my hair. For a brief, perfect span of time, we were just two wolves, two souls, completely anchored. I turned my head on his chest, kissing the warm skin over his heart. "Before I start with the prophecies and the psychopaths, there's one more thing that needs to happen," I whispered.
Alaric's eyes, still soft with the aftermath of our passion, opened lazily. "Name it, mate. I would level a small mountain for you right now."
