The mate mark *burned*.Not painfully—nothing like the silver that had seared his palms or the wounds from last night's violence. This was different. A constant, warm pulse just beneath his skin, right at the juncture where neck met shoulder. A brand that announced to the world exactly what he'd done.*Who* he'd claimed.Kael stood at the lodge's cracked mirror, studying the mark with a mixture of pride and dawning horror at its implications.Two crescent-shaped scars, perfectly symmetrical, raised slightly above the surrounding skin. They gleamed in the morning light—not quite silver, not quite gold, but something in between. The color would fade eventually, but the shape would remain forever. Visible. Undeniable.*Permanent.*He traced the marks with his fingertips, feeling the strange resonance that pulsed through them. Every time he touched the mate mark, he felt Lyra through the bond—felt her stirring on the couch, felt her awareness of him sharpening as she climbed toward full w
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