WOLVES OF WINTER MOON
Lyra turned to Rylan, heart breaking at the sight of him—strong, proud Rylan—leaning heavily against the bed, breath uneven, light flickering weakly beneath his skin.
“This is my fault,” she whispered.
He shook his head. “No.”
“It is,” she insisted. “The bond. The power. The Wraith. They all circle me.”
He reached for her, pulling her into his arms with desperate strength. “If loving you kills me, I will die grateful.”
Tears burned her eyes.
She held him like she might never get the chance again, pressing her lips to his, slow and aching, pouring everything she couldn’t say into the kiss.
Sikat na Kabanata