Chapter 63. A Storm of Rage

And then it happened. His limbs slackened. He sagged into a sitting position, a great thud of muscle on stone. Blood oozed from the wounds in his side and leg, but his gaze lingered, still fierce yet now tempered by trust. The other wolves slunk away, returning to human form, leaving only the two of them—two magnificent beings bound by a bond older than memory.

I risked a glance behind me. Liam was on his feet, wincing but apparently unbroken. A thin line of red trailed down his leg from the mauling, but his grin was sheepish rather than angry. He managed a single word as he rocked on his heels: “Damn.” I knew that under his bravado lay respect. My mate was formidable, and he had claimed his place in the pack hierarchy.

Noah shook his head, voice low. “We’ll give you some time.” Those were the last words any of them spoke as they filed silently up the stairs, leaving a circle of spent energy and the metallic smell of blood in their wake.

When the others had gone, m