Claimed By My Mate's Uncle
She expected the room to be empty, but as she stepped inside, her heart missed a beat.
Dominic was there, waiting for her. He had shed his formal royal tunic and was sitting on the edge of the massive mattress, wearing nothing but his dark trousers. His broad, heavily scarred chest glistened faintly under the firelight, his posture radiating a quiet, calm power. In his massive hand, he held a small, dark ceramic jar of healing salve.
"Come here, little wolf," Dominic rumbled softly. His voice lacked the terrifying edge from the previous night, replaced by a deep, smooth calm.
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