Reed POV:
I haven't claimed him.
Haven't even kissed him.
But he's under my skin like poison.
My senses are wired to his—every breath, every twitch, every goddamn heartbeat. I hear it.
Too loud.
Too alive.
Too his.
And yet—my wolf, that ancient beast that never shuts the fuck up—he's gone quiet.
Still.
Watching.
Waiting.
Not for a fight.
But for him.
What the hell does that even mean?
I've never felt this before. Not with the girls I've fucked. Not with the she-wolves thrown at me like offerings. Not even with the ones who begged me to claim them.
It was all noise. All blood and sweat and skin.
But this... this thing with him... it's quiet.
Unnerving. Crawling under my skin like truth I'm not ready to hear.
He isn't supposed to be it.
Not him.
Not this.
Because if he is—if the gods made this human with boobs and secrets and lies just for me—
Then I am so royally fucked.
Clare/Clause POV:
So here I am.
Crouched on the floor.
