Fane

he high stone walls of the secluded estate cut off the wind, creating a pocket of unnatural stillness. After the suffocating tension o

used on the task, on the texture of the soil, the delicate resistance of the roots. I tried not to think about Theron, who was

mmunication crystal pulsed with a soft, white light. Mr. White. My stomach twisted. I wanted to ig

my jeans and walke

tmares-disembodied, formal, and unnervingly calm. The voice Theron had mimic

said, keeping my tone clipped and my eyes on the

's light to fade, the connection to sever

rely unexpected question. "Wh

rofessional arrangement, that I froze. How could he possibly kno

aced with a hint of warmth that was somehow more unnerving than

felt just like Theron. The confusion was a physical weight, making it hard to breathe. I suddenly, desperately, needed the simplicity of Theron's p

guing possibility. Back to the day we met. Zora Thorne, my mentor and the pack's former lead tracker, had arranged it.

*

ashb

to diminish his presence. He was tall and leanly muscled, dressed in the worn c

this is Elara Fane, one of our best. She'

nally lifted his head, his eyes locked on mine. They were intense, a deep, sto

mall, heavy pouch of coins. "Standard es

eless wave of his hand, never breaki

pace. His scent hit me like a physical blow-pine, rain, and a dark, spicy undertone I couldn't place. I

fter now, meant only for me. "Should prob

swer, he'd already wrapped his arms around me. It wasn't a brief, polite embrace. His grip was firm, possessive, pulling me tight against

Zora was still holding and scoffed. "Keep it," he said, hi

*

, possessive eyes. The same utter disregard for anyone but me. It had been him. It had been Theron all

narrow bed. The suffocating tension from the car was gone, replaced by a quiet, expectant energy. He stood as I e

lie. I needed to believe there was a part of him t

d spent weeks carving from a piece of fallen oak. It was crude, but

if it were a priceless relic, his large fingers tracing the clumsy lines I'd carved. He imm

ox. Inside, resting on a bed of silk, was an ivory fang, exquisit

ther cord cool against

g the necklace over my head. I expected to feel the clasp at the back of my neck. Instead, his fingers brushed against the sensitive ski

ust held the ivory fang there, a si

eath warm against my ear. "So everyo

y throat. In the reflection, Theron stood behind me, his chin resting on my shoulder. His eyes weren't looking at the pend

*

ournal of T

pulse. A promise. The first mark is made