HERA'S POV“Oww,” I winced. A brief inspection of my ankle showed no bruises, but the way it throbbed told me I had sprained it.I heard the sound of dried leaves crunching underfoot when, caught off guard, firm, strong hands lifted me off the ground. I weighed sixty-five kilograms at five-ten, yet his lack of a grunt or huff made it seem as though I weighed nothing at all.“Drop me,” I commanded as his face came into view, his warm body pressed against mine.“You’re hurt and can’t walk,” he said smoothly, rough warmth threading his tone. He started toward the road. Despite my attempts to create distance, his body edged closer with every step.I shrugged in reluctant acceptance. Then a pendant he had worn one too many times slipped from beneath his polo shirt. It bore the face of the same woman he kept framed on his nightstand.A sudden wave of anger surged through me. Irrational as it was, I let it consume me. I wanted nothing to do with him, yet I was a werewolf, bound by a mate bon
Last Updated : 2026-01-16 Read more