Maya’s POV The silence in Alpha Kael’s study was heavy, thick with the scent of spilled tea, ozone, and the raw, electric charge of a man who was fighting a war against his own mind. He still had me pinned against the cold obsidian wall, his hands like iron shackles around my waist. "Tell me to stop, Maya," he rasped, his voice vibrating through my chest. "Tell me you don't want this as much as the beast in me does." I looked into his eyes, those burning, liquid-gold suns, and for a heartbeat, the world outside ceased to exist. There was no Blood Moon, no Prince with a silver tongue, no mother with a heart of briars. There was only the heat of him. "I can't," I whispered, the truth cutting deeper than any blade. "Because if I tell you to stop, I’m lying to both of us." Kael groaned, a low, visceral sound, and claimed my mouth again. This wasn't a kiss; it was a reclamation. It was desperate and territorial, tasting of the wild northern wind and the bitter herbs of his tea. My
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