RonanThe taste of blood lingers on my tongue long after the battle ends. My body feels like it’s been ripped apart, every muscle screaming, my chest raw with pain. I collapse onto the dirt, boots heavy, breath shallow. The night is quieter now, but it’s not silence—it’s the kind of quiet that follows slaughter. Groans, whimpers, the occasional snarl. The stench of blood and smoke thick in the air, clinging to everything. Victory tastes bitter.Casen’s wolf prowls near me, blood dripping from his muzzle, his fur torn in patches. He shifts back, naked and covered in red, his face sharp with worry. He kneels down, his hand hovering close like he’s afraid to touch me.“You’re bleeding too much,” he mutters, his voice rough, strained. “Fuck, Ronan, you should never have been out there in this state.”I give a bitter laugh, low and broken. “Should I have stayed in bed and let them tear through us? Not happening.” My words come out hoarse, but steady enough.Casen doesn’t answer. His jaw cl
Last Updated : 2025-09-07 Read more