*Ronan*For a breath, all I can do is stare.Half‑moon grooves scar the floorboards where her nails dug in. Her fingertips are tipped in blunt, half‑formed claws. The air in the room crackles with the echo of her scream.And her eyes—Gold. Not a flicker. Not a trick of the light.A full, predatory glow that has no place in a human face.A faint, broken growl vibrates in her throat. Her lips peel back from teeth that are still mostly human but edging wrong, just enough to make my wolf bare his own.He surges against my skin, not in horror.In recognition. In pride.*Ours.*She whimpers, then, the sound scraping the rough edge of that growl, folding in on itself like a wounded thing.That breaks the freeze.I move.I’m on my knees beside her in two strides, the hardwood cool under my bare shins. Up close, the scent of her pain is a bitter tang on the air—fear, sweat, that sharp mineral edge of something new and wild trying to break free.“Lilah,” I say.Her body jerks, every muscle kno
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