Lilith's POV
The road bleeds behind me, gravel crackling beneath my tires like bones being crushed underfoot.
I drive fast. Not because I'm in a hurry. Because if I slow down, I'll think. And if I think, I'll feel. And if I feel… I might not recover.
The Glass Chapel fades in my rearview mirror, swallowed whole by the ancient forest. A place of ghosts and broken vows. Fitting, really. I touch my neck, fingers hovering over the still-burning mark. Not with tenderness. With fury.
The bond is quiet. My wolf is not.
You're safe now, she purrs, content in a way that grates on me. You're his.
"I'm no one's," I whisper aloud, gripping the wheel tighter.
But she doesn't argue. She doesn't need to. She knows, and I do too.
I swore I'd never be claimed. I swore I'd never need. And yet, the echo of his lips on mine, the heat of his voice against my skin—it lives under my flesh like a secret.
let him mark me.
How could I?
I let him see me.
