Mary Ann’s POV
Modric carried me all the way back to the pack house despite my repeated complaints that my ankle was not broken and I was capable of walking with support. He ignored every argument. His arms remained firm beneath my back and knees while I held on around his shoulders, more because the road was uneven than because I wanted to stay close to him. At least, that was what I told myself. The truth was harder to admit. After the bridge collapsed and his wolf caught me before I hit the river, being in his arms felt safer than it should have. His body was warm against my soaked clothes, his heartbeat steady beneath my cheek, and every time the bond pulsed between us, my wolf settled as though she had finally found the place where she belonged.
The servants stared when we entered t
