Chapter 10

Weston

I once believed a mate- bond was a consecrated promise—a gift bestowed by the Moon Goddess herself. The instant I claimed Alex, that fairytale shattered like glass.

A true bond isn’t a present; it’s an offering of self. The moment I pledged my life to her, I ceased to belong solely to me.

Now I can taste each tremor of her fear on my tongue, feel the echo of her pain beneath my ribs, and witness the hidden strengths she swears are invisible.

I trace the map of her scars, buried memories throbbing under my palm. My chest constricts—how could anyone who beholds her call her anything less than extraordinary?

I draw her close beneath the vaulted ceiling of the old stone bath chamber, where mosaic tiles spiderweb cracks and ancient runes lurk in shadow. A latent power stirs in her veins, so fierce the walls shudder—not from weakness but from primal magic recognizing its counterpart. Steam coils around us like living silk. Alex presses a trembli