Modric POV
The word wouldn’t leave me alone. Mate.
It echoed in my chest like a war drum, pounding with every heartbeat as I stood frozen in that side room long after Mary Ann had fled. My cheek still stung from her second slap, but it was nothing compared to the chaos she’d left behind. I refused to accept it. No way. I couldn’t be mated to her—the plus-size girl I’d once mocked to keep my distance, the alliance bride forced on me by duty. She was a complication I didn’t need, a weakness I couldn’t afford.
Yet the bond didn’t care what I wanted.
I knew her wolf was silent. I could feel it through the fragile thread connecting us. She hadn’t fully experienced the pull yet, that overwhelming recognition that had slammed into me during the kiss. Good. That was good. I’d keep this torment
