The rival pack's enforcer has demanded my bond as payment, and the demand still stands at the clan gate. I have always kept my own name on every ledger, refusing to belong to anyone. Then Ciaran takes my hand on the edge of the map and does not give it back.

I want to yank my fingers free, to prove I need no chief's protection or claim. But the heat rising in me answers his touch instead, promising the knot that would bind us through the solstice and beyond. He has ruled in isolation for years, and I have feared abandonment since the day I was left alone. If his dominance claims me now, I do not know if it will hold me safe or shatter what little I have left when the threat ends.