But the strange thing was—I didn't feel afraid. I felt... understood. Because wasn't that exactly what I wanted too? To destroy what they loved? To make them hurt the way they'd hurt me? "If I do this," he continued, voice dropping even lower, "it can't be undone." "I know." "You'll carry my mark." "I know." His eyes searched mine, looking for something—doubt, maybe, or fear, or hesitation. "And I need to know you understand what that means here, in my territory, with my pack. A marked mate is not a guest. Not a political arrangement." His voice was careful, deliberate. "It means something permanent." "I understand it's permanent," I said, and my voice didn't shake. "My whole life just ended. I have nothing to go back to. I understand what permanent means." Something shifted in his face. Not softening exactly—more like a door opening a crack, letting in just a sliver of light. "You're not afraid," he said, and it sounded almost like a question. "I'm terrified," I corrected
Last Updated : 2026-08-08 Read more