Devon stared at me, as if he was waiting for me to make some profound declaration, or perhaps just to swoon into his arms. I didn’t do either. I just stared back, my pulse hammering in my ears, while the faint ache on my neck stubbornly reminded me this wasn’t some fever dream.

“You’re awfully quiet,” he said after a moment. “Regrets already?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” I replied flatly.

The almost-smile appeared again, but this time, it held a smugness that made my jaw tighten. He was way too pleased with himself. I just knew it.

“Then what are you thinking?” he asked.

“My thoughts are my own,” I said, narrowing my eyes.

“So you’d think.” His smile deepened, that cryptic look flashing in his eyes. The one he’d given me too many times since we’d met. But now, I had an inkling of what it meant. Was this because he’d marked me? Because I could feel what he was trying to keep to himself.

“You don’t understand the gravity of the mate bond, do you?” he asked me.

“Not entirely, no,” I admitted, crossing my arms over my chest in what I hoped looked like indifference. But the truth was, I was starting to understand. Slowly, maddeningly, the bond was unravelling pieces of him to me, and where was the fun in telling him that?

“But I do wonder if being with a witch is” feasible for someone like you.”

Devon tilted his head, studying me as if I’d just said something both na’ve and mildly entertaining. “Someone like me?”

“Someone who could live for thousands of seasons,” I clarified, lifting my chin. “Witches don’t live that long. Of all the species in Wridel, we have the shortest life spans, right after the Mundanes. So you’d lose me. And then what? Spend eternity alone?”

The words came out colder than I intended, but the thought lodged itself in my chest right after he marked me. For all his power and arrogance, he would be stuck mourning me, left with centuries to feel the ache of my absence while the seasons turned without me by his side.

Devon’s gaze shifted, softening in a way that caught me off guard. There was no smirk now, no clever retort waiting to be unleashed. Instead, his smile was almost tender, a quiet steadiness in his eyes that made my heart trip over itself.

“Do not worry yourself about that,” he said calmly.

I frowned, unsure whether I was more annoyed by his certainty or the comfort it brought me. “That’s easy for you to say. It’s not your lifespan we’re talking about.”

“No,” he agreed. “It’s ours.”

The simplicity of his words silenced me. “And what exactly does ours mean?” I asked quietly.

“It means,” Devon said, stepping closer, his presence wrapping around me like a storm ready to break, “that when we share blood and bond completely in sex, your life will lengthen. You will live for as long as I do.”

As his words rushed over me like a tide, I blinked. As curious as I was about the blood bit—peculiar as that sounded—my body had a decidedly different focus. Sex. My pulse quickened at the thought, and for one reckless moment, I wondered why wait? If it was part of the ritual, if this was what cemented the bond, then why were we still talking about it instead of”

I stopped myself, heat rising to my cheeks as I cleared my throat to dispel the unhelpful thoughts swirling in my mind. “Convenient,” I said. Then, with a quick cough to steady myself further, I added, “I suppose immortality is just another perk of this whole arrangement.”

Devon’s lips twitched, a faint, knowing smile that made my stomach flip. “Among other things,” he murmured.

He stepped closer, the space between us narrowing until it was almost non-existent. My breath hitched as his grey eyes darkened, pinning me in place. His hands rose to my face, cradling it with a surprising gentleness given the sheer size and strength of them.

My heart pounded so loudly that I was certain he could hear it. His lips ghosted over mine, not quite touching, but close enough that the heat of him made me shiver. My breath came shallow, ragged, and I couldn’t bring myself to move.

“It is no secret that wolves are primal,” he said, his gaze tracing my features as though memorizing every line, every curve. “And with our mates, there is a primal need to ravish you” to satisfy you completely.”

His words ignited a fire that raced through me, leaving my skin tingling. A shiver I couldn’t suppress ran down my spine, and I hated how easily my body betrayed me, how it responded to him, unbidden, undeniable.

“And this,” he continued, his voice dropping further, a low growl weaving through his words, “might be a good time to tell you. It has been the most torturous punishment to restrain myself, with the sweet scent of your arousal taunting me.”

The confession left me breathless. I tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come.

He tilted his head, his lips still so achingly close, and I felt the rumble of his voice as much as I heard it. “Do you know how hard it has been, Celeste, to hold back? To not claim what is already mine?”

My fingers twitched at my sides, and I clenched them into fists, desperately trying to stop myself from reaching for him.

“I didn’t ask you to hold back,” I whispered, barely recognizing my own voice. It was raw with a need I couldn’t suppress.

Devon’s smile widened, dark and dangerous, like a predator who knew his prey was already caught. With that spark in his eyes, I knew he was teasing me, tormenting me, because he could feel how much I wanted him. It was diabolical, really. But the worst part was that I found it maddeningly sexy.

I stole a glance at his lips, and my throat was suddenly dry from an insatiable hunger building inside me. The mere thought of tasting him sent a pulse of heat through me. He wasn’t going to kiss me, though. That much was clear. No, he meant to bide his time, to draw this out until I was utterly desperate for him.

I hated how well he knew me already, how easily he could unravel me with a look, a touch, a single word. And how I still couldn’t look away.

“Patience, Celeste,” he murmured. “You’re not ready yet.”

Not ready? Did he think I couldn’t handle him?

But as his gaze softened, just a fraction, it wasn’t condescension I saw. It was control, tempered by an emotion that made my chest ache in ways I didn’t fully understand.

“I hate how much you are enjoying this,” I muttered.

His laugh was soft. “Do you?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” he said, tilting his head just slightly, his lips so close I could almost feel them, “here you are.”

“You just claimed me as your mate,” I whispered, barely able to find my voice. “Where else would I be?”

His hand lifted, his fingers brushing my cheek with a tenderness that felt impossibly at odds with the sheer size of him. His palm, rough and strong enough to crush a lesser being, held me with such care that it stole the breath from my lungs.

A gasp rushed out before I could stop it, and my body betrayed me, leaning ever so slightly into his touch. Every nerve felt alight, aware only of him and the searing warmth he left in his wake.

“In truth,” he murmured, his voice dipping into a more intimate whisper, “I haven’t completely claimed you yet. I’ve only marked you.”

The words sent a shiver coursing down my spine, but it was the way he leaned closer, his lips grazing the shell of my ear, that unravelled me completely.

“I am yet to make you feel like my woman, Celeste,” he whispered, the heat of his breath igniting something raw and dangerous within me.

Gaia, help me. He was right. Here I was, standing toe-to-toe with the most infuriating man I’d ever met, my entire being alight with a need I couldn’t deny.

“You’re unbelievable,” I managed, my voice trembling with a hunger I didn’t fully understand. My chest ached, my entire body vibrating with unspoken desire. I blamed myself entirely for this—after all, I’d always asked Gaia for something electric. I just didn’t expect her to send a raging tempest.

“And you,” he murmured, his thumb brushing the corner of my lips with maddening gentleness, “are mine.”

“I won’t wait forever,” I said, the admission tumbling out before I could stop it.

His smile softened. “I won’t make you.”

And then, just as the heat between us threatened to consume me, he stepped back. The sudden loss of him was like stepping into the cold after being wrapped in fire.

“Come,” he said calmly, as if he hadn’t just thrown my entire world off balance. “You’ll need your strength today.”

Disappointment flared in my chest, sharp and biting, as I hissed under my breath. My frown deepened. “And what exactly does “today” entail?” I asked.

“The regional council meets in a few minutes,” he explained. “They’re convening to discuss an important issue, and you will be coming with me.”

I groaned, unable to hide my displeasure. My last encounter with the high council still lingered like the aftertaste of burned tea—bitter, unpleasant, and entirely unwelcome. The thought of seeing Lady Loreleia again made my skin crawl, but” fine. If I was to be the Supreme Eminence, I supposed I had to start somewhere. And apparently, that somewhere was a room full of nobles, backhanded compliments, and the glorious art of politics.

“You don’t look too excited about it,” Devon pointed out.

“I’m not,” I admitted, earning a slight lift of his brow.

“Any particular reason?” he asked, as though he hadn’t witnessed the utter chaos of my last council meeting. The scathing looks, the passive-aggressive remarks, the way he’d had to step in before I was metaphorically devoured.

“None,” I said quickly, cutting off the possibility of further questions.

But of course, this man wouldn’t let it go. His brows furrowed, and he fixed me with that look—the one that made me feel like a particularly interesting puzzle he was eager to solve. “What’s bothering you, Celeste?”

“Why do you think something’”

“I can feel it,” he interrupted. “As sure as blood courses through my veins, I know something is troubling you. What is it?”

He stepped closer, effortlessly swallowing the space between us. That faint trace of his scent, earthy, warm, and maddeningly subtle, hit me like an ambush. What was that? And why did it make my knees weak and my thoughts scatter in fifty different directions?

I hesitated, shifting my weight awkwardly, desperately trying to pull myself together. How could I possibly explain what was really bothering me? That he’d built me up, left me burning hot and completely unhinged, only to abandon me to my own spiralling thoughts? It was maddening, confusing, and, fine, I’d admit it, a little heartbreaking.

Honestly, I’d rather be tangled up between the sheets with him than sitting stiffly in some council meeting, dodging veiled insults from Lady Loreleia. At least with Devon, I knew where I stood” or I thought I did.

“You’re imagining things,” I said finally, channelling every ounce of confidence I didn’t feel.

“Am I?” he asked, tilting his head slightly. “Because you don’t seem like someone who’s simply dreading a routine council meeting. There’s more, isn’t there?”

I exhaled sharply, crossing my arms like they might protect me from his unnervingly accurate observations. “You’re exhausting, you know that?”

His lips twitched. “I’ve been called worse.”

“Fine,” I huffed, glaring up at him. “If you must know, it’s Lady Loreleia. I don’t like her, and I have no desire to play her games today. Or any day for that matter.”

It wasn’t a complete lie. Lady Loreleia was awful, and the idea of sitting across from her made me slightly irritated. But it wasn’t the whole truth, and we both knew it.

“You’re lying to me, Celeste,” he said, and Gaia help me, the way my name rolled off his tongue was irresistibly hot. “Tell me what you want.”

Oh, absolutely not. That was not happening.

Instead, I straightened my shoulders, shook my head, and gave him my best attempt at a withering glare. “I’ll be ready to go in a few minutes, Alpha Devon.”

And then, because I was clearly a glutton for self-preservation, I turned on my heels and walked out.

To my utter disappointment, he didn’t stop me.