CallaImmediately I wake up, the first thing that hits me is the pounding in my head. Itās sharp, steady, like someone drumming against my skull. For a second, I wonder if I blacked out at some point last night, if maybe Blaire slipped something into my drink as a joke. But then my memory reminds meāno. I didnāt drink. Not a single drop.Which makes the ache in my body that much harder to ignore. My muscles are sore, my skin feels stretched too tight, and then it all rushes backāevery second of last night. His hands. His mouth. The way I gave in like I had no self-control. The way I didnāt stop him.My stomach flips.I turn my head, careful, like if I move too fast the whole room will tilt. My eyes land on himāRonan. Heās sprawled out, face half-buried in the pillow, dark hair a mess. And he looks so damn peaceful it makes me want to throw something at him. How dare he sleep like that? Like he didnāt just ruin me. Like he didnāt make me ruin myself.A gasp slips out before I can swall
RonanI can taste her.The thought alone should be enough to make me lose my sanity. I can taste every drop of her heat on my tongue, every desperate sound spilling out of her mouth like sheās already mine. And fuck, I shouldnāt even be doing this. I know what she is. Human. Fragile. I'm a danger to her. Yet here I am, buried between her thighs, tongue sliding against her like Iāve been starving my whole life and just discovered what food is.Her back arches off the bed, hands clawing at the sheets like she doesnāt know what else to hold onto. āRonanāā my name slips out, half-broken, half-plea, and itās enough to drag a growl straight from my chest.Darko stirs inside me, my wolf pushing against the edge, urging me to sink my teeth into her right now, to mark her, to claim what already belongs to us. My jaw tightens until it hurts. Not now. Not like this.She doesnāt even know what I am.And thatās the fucked up part. I canāt tell her. I canāt whisper the truth in her ear, not when t
CallaāMate!āThe growl rips through my head. Itās not my voice, not even my own thoughtsāitās something else, someone else, calling out to me. The sound shudders down my spine, raw and possessive, and I feel it all the way to the pit of my stomach. My body is burning, searing from the inside out, and I canāt endure the way it feels. Itās too much, a fever that has no cure.My eyes are shut, locked in a thick, endless darkness. But the scent cuts through it, dragging me up as if Iāve been drowning. Seductive. Heavy. Alluring in a way that makes me ache. I want it. No, I crave it.My hand moves on instinct, sliding to my neck, trailing lower, brushing across my chest. I cup my breast, fingers squeezing, and a tremor runs through me. The touch makes me shiver, but it isnāt enough. I donāt want my own hand. I want something stronger. Someone else.Ronanās face slams into my head so vividly I almost gasp. That scentāitās his. Iāve breathed it in so many times, memorized it, but right now
RonanI carry Calla in my arms, bridal style, her head heavy against my chest. Sheās still groggy, drifting in and out of awareness, and every step I take rattles through me. Her scent clings to the air, thick, intoxicating, sweet in a way that burns down my throat. Itās different now. Sharper. Heavier. The kind of scent that claws at my control and drags everything primal inside me to the surface.The music downstairs is still loud. The party hasnāt slowed, laughter and voices bleeding through the walls, but I donāt stop. I slip us through the back door and up the stairs before anyone notices. My hold on her tightens the moment she stirs. Her body is burning up, skin flushed, her pulse too fast against my arm.I know what this is.Heat.The word itself sinks into me like a blade. My chest tightens as I shoulder my way into my room and kick the door shut behind me. I set her down on the bed as carefully as I can, but the second her body leaves mine, I already miss the feel of her. My
RonanThe stench of them hits me firstāiron, dirt, and the sour tang of bloodlust. Three wolves fan out in front of me, their eyes bright with malice, their hackles raised. Strangers, not from my pack. Not rogues either. Their scent is too clean, too structured. They belong somewhere. And they were sent.āTo kill her,ā my wolf growls inside me, deep and primal, hot fury rushing through my veins. āTheyāre here for her. For our mate.āThe tallest of the three snarls, his lip curling. āI smell her on you. But not you on her.ā His voice is guttural, dripping with contempt. āYou havenāt claimed her. That makes her weak. Easy prey.āA low rumble tears through my chest before I even register it. My wolf pushes hard against my skin, claws scraping from within, eager to rip out. I grit my teeth. āSheās not yours to touch.āThe second wolf, broader, with a scar tearing across his muzzle, laughs. āSheās not yours either. Not really. The council doesnāt allow humans to live once theyāve seen too
CallaI walk deeper into the woods to clear my head, because the party noise keeps bouncing in my skull and I want leaves and night to scrub it out. The path narrows and the brush snags my leggings. The air is wet and cold, full of pine and mud. An owl hoots once. Far away, water murmurs. I tell myself this is fine. It is just trees and me, and trees do not gossip.I donāt check my phone. If I look, everything I fled climbs back in. I count breaths the way Blaire taught me. Four in, four out. Calm, calm. My heart ignores me.Something moves to my left, low and deliberate. I stop, listening. The wind hushes, the branches settle, and all I can hear is my own breath. āRelax,ā I whisper, like that ever works. I step again and snap a twig. The crack ricochets. Smooth, Calla. Stealth queen.The moon slides from behind a cloud and folds a pale sheet over everything. The path looks friendly for half a second. Iām thinking of turning back when the growl arrives behind me.It is big. It drags a