The next morning, sunlight spilled across the rumpled black sheets, highlighting the marks Ronan had left on Faith’s skin—faint bruises on her hips, a love bite just below her collarbone. She woke alone again, body deliciously sore but her mind restless. The intense night replayed in flashes: his dominance, the overwhelming pleasure, the way he had held her afterward like she might vanish.
She refused to let it soften her completely.
After a long shower, Faith dressed in comfortable jeans and a loose sweater. The mansion felt quieter today. Curiosity—and a need to reclaim some control—drove her to explore Ronan’s private study while he was away handling pack business.
The heavy oak door was unlocked. She slipped inside, heart beating faster. Maps and strategy books lined the shelves, bu
