“Such a good girl trusting your instincts. You’ll do best to remember them,” the unknown voice growls, an invisible hand stroking the soft skin between my breasts. “And you’ll tell me who did this to you. You’ll tell me who harmed my mate.” I close my eyes, relishing in the fever dream my fucked-up mind created to bring me peace. “Every single scar on you, I’ll put on him. I’ll hunt him. I’ll kill him for you. You are mine. You’ll tell me. Promise me,” he demands, but the tone doesn’t scare me. It fulfills me. “I promise,” I reply in a post-orgasmic rasp, my eyes hooding with relaxation. “You
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