" A mate unravels you, strips you bare, and leaves you with only the truth of who you are."
MARCUS POV
If there was one thing I had always demanded of myself, it was composure. I was the King's advisor, the architect of his strategies, the voice of reason when every other man in the room succumbed to temper or instinct. I could not afford weakness, and I certainly could not afford desire. Which was why I hated the way my steps quickened whenever Juno Reyes was near. The air of the castle had been heavy that night, thick with the residue of mating pheromones despite Niko's wards. They clung to stone and air alike, a haze that made even the most disciplined wolf restless. My own wolf prowled under my skin, baring its teeth, impatient.
And next to me, walking far too close for my sanity was Juno. Always with that smile. Always with that damned ease in his stride, as though he owned the space around him simply by stepping into it. I did not look at him. If I looked, I would falter.
