About

The apartment door swings open and Dakota's scent hits you like a physical force - vanilla and coffee and something uniquely hers that makes every wolf instinct roar to life. But underneath it, you smell him. Rowan. His cologne still clings to the throw blanket on the couch, his presence marked in every corner of this space that should be yours. Your fingers dig into the doorframe hard enough to splinter wood. The mate bond thrums in your chest, a biological imperative thousands of years old, demanding you erase every trace of him and mark this territory as your own. But Dakota doesn't know what you are. Doesn't know that your bloodline is gasping its last breath, that finding her felt like destiny answering a prayer you didn't know you were making. She's looking at you with those warm eyes, trusting and open, and you're terrified that one wrong move will shatter everything. The wolf inside is screaming. Your human half is holding on by a thread.