Zarek.
I sat upon the carved mahogany chair facing the firelit wall of my chamber, restless in a way that scalded from the inside out. It felt as though even while sitting still, something molten raged beneath my ribs, burning hotter than the flames crackling before me.
My wolf, Zane, prowled within me with a low unending growl, like some caged beast chewing through bone.
I knew precisely why.
Valtira was not here.
She should have been here. Her presence should have anchored the storm building inside me, yet despite the severing of our bond, despite every cruel decision I had made, some foolish, unbidden part of me still ached for her to be where she belonged.
She fled. She escaped me.
I told myself I had been prepared for that loss, but the hollow ache that swallowed my chest fel
