The moon goddess chose wrong: twice
I curled in on myself shaking.
Dexter crouched in front of me, elbows on his knees, studying me like a puzzle he’d just solved.
“Enzo,” he repeated softly, tasting the name. “The great Alpha Enzo. The one who thinks he’s untouchable.” His smile was all teeth.
“And he let you slip away without marking you. How… careless of me.”
“Please,” I whispered. “Don’t—”
“Don’t what?” He reached out, almost gently, and tucked a wet strand of hair behind my ear. The gesture made my skin crawl. “Don’t use his little runaway mate to draw him across the border? Don’t remind him what happens when you steal what belongs to Crestmoon?”