m. Ciaran Winterbane's boots sank into the damp earth, his breaths coming in short, measured bursts. The full moon loomed ab
st inside him clawed at his sanity, desperate to break free. Not tonight. He growled low in his throat, a guttural s
nder and sage on the wind-delic
f the curse dragging at him. His pack had begged him not to come alone, but
ge of a clearing,
othing like the meek healer he'd imagined. Her dark hair was tied back, leaving her striking features exposed-high cheekbones, a proud tilt to her chi
oldly, her voice sharp as a blade.
ng a long shadow across the clearing. "I'm no
rate slowness. "Help? From me? That's rich. The mighty Alpha Winterbane
what you think of me. This isn't
the dark veins creeping up his neck, the faint tremor in his hands. "The curse," she
hed his fist
ain. "The cursed alpha who loses control every full moon, sl
rl before he could stop
hreat. "You're the one standing in my forest, begging
growl. "You think I came here to play games? I came because
o a smirk. "Oh, I can st
se if you don't, the beast will win. And when it does, it won't just be me it kills.
or the briefest mome
ing with anger. "You alphas destroy everything you touch. You think your
sking for help. And if you think I'm proud of what I
elene's fingers twitched at her sides, and for a moment, Ciaran thought
ter now. "Curses like this-they're not just broken. The
kes," he said firmly. "J
reeping into her expression. "You're either
at the door. "Well? Are you coming in, or
sinking in. This was it-his last hope. I
side was thick with the scent of herbs and old magic, and for the first time in
s just the beginning