Nyxara Rising
“But you’ll survive me too, Nyxara Vale. Once this starts, there’s no turning back, for either of us.”
Her eyes burned, violet and wild, the wolf inside her tasting the air, hungry for the challenge. The pulse of the bond trembled between them, caught in the tension of two men—one a storm, the other a shadow—each staking a claim to pieces of her she’d never let anyone touch.
Tonight, the first move was made. The game was no longer about survival. It was about power, desire, loyalty—a dance on the knife’s edge, where the winner would be the last one standing, and the rules were written in blood and longing.