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The direwolf’s rider matches him in ferocity. He’s in his late twenties, I’d wager, with light brown skin and dark, messy hair that has a bloodred streak in it. Like every Bonded I’ve ever seen, he’s undeniably beautiful, with deep brown eyes and scruff framing his chiseled jawline.
Today, I love you sounds an awful lot like goodbye.
“But if anyone’s fool enough to take the fight to the Nabbers, and strong enough to stop them and bring home our kids, well, it’s you.”
“It’s Anassa,” whispers one of the men near me, his gaze as focused on the massive silver wolf as everyone else’s. “She never bonds. They say she’s been here for hundreds of years…”
My eyes catch on Stark again only to find him already staring at me. Right at me.
“What? You’re leaving? We’re not going to talk about the Alpha of Daemos staring at you like—”
“You’re the most powerful woman in Nocturna, Meryn.”
“You can bring this kingdom to its knees with just a word.”
Stark grips my jaw firmly with his calloused fingers, the heat of them sending sparks across my skin.
And his tongue streaks over my skin. I can’t repress the sound this time, small and almost angry, like the very beginnings of a growl at the base of my throat. I think he hears it because his hand tightens on my jaw.
“You’re mine,” he growls. “I don’t need anyone’s permission for that other than yours.”
But thankfully, I don’t have to. I feel a presence behind me just before a warm, masculine hand touches my back. Killian.
“Strategos Alpha, you must not have been listening closely. That song he sang? That was about Alpha Stark, when he saved half the city from being murdered, oh, five or six years back. Legend has it he killed a good hundred Siphons on his own. Our streets ran red with the blood he spilled for weeks after.”
“Who did this to you?” he demands ferociously, one calloused hand clamping hotly on my thigh.
I find my gaze drawn back to the portrait of Lucien Brightbane. Why do I feel like I’ve seen him somewhere before?
“I’m the rightful queen of Nocturna, aren’t I?” I ask. Stark’s eyes spark, he takes a single step back, and he bows down on one knee, hand to his chest. “Welcome home, my queen.”
“Who moved you to your own quarters when someone tried to kill you in the night? Me!” He thuds a fist against his chest.