Easton
A low sound cut through the haze of sleep—someone clearing their throat. I blinked, my eyelids heavy, the dim light of the dungeon cell barely filtering through my foggy thoughts. It took me a second to register the warmth pressed against me, the steady rhythm of a heartbeat under my hand.
Arianna.
Her head rested on my chest, her hair spilling over my skin like dark silk. Last night flashed through my mind—her lips, her touch, the fire that had consumed us when we gave in completely. The bond. The mark.
It wasn’t a dream. Arianna and I mated. I claimed her, marked her as mine.
Another throat-clear broke the quiet, louder this time. My gaze shifted toward the bars. Standing just beyond them, grinning like the smug bastard he is, was Braxton.
“Well,” Braxton drawled, his tone d
