Tamlyn stood at the edge of the cavern, her bare feet bleeding on the rough stone, the forest watching her with ancient, judging eyes. The wind had teeth tonight. The trees creaked like old bones and whispered warnings through their leaves.
She was marked now.
Not just by Ruellan’s bite, still dark and bruised at the curve of her neck but by something older. The bond thrummed inside her, fierce and unyielding. Her body ached with it. Her heart burned with it.
Behind her, she heard the beast stir.
Ruellan emerged from the shadows, wearing nothing but scars and shadows. His horns gleamed under the moonlight pouring through the open cavern mouth. His muscles tensed with every step, the cords of his neck taut, as if barely holding back the storm building inside him.
He was furious.
Not at her.
At the world.
The blood-scent of invaders had reached them just after they had collapsed together on the altar, still joined, still slick with each other, when the forest itself had screamed.
The fa
