I woke to the sound of a heartbeat that wasn't my own.
It was a slow, heavy thrum that seemed to vibrate through the very mattress, a rhythmic pulsing that I felt in my own marrow. My eyes snapped open, the morning light filtered through the heavy velvet curtains of the master suite, casting the room in a hazy, golden gloom.
For a moment, I forgot. I reached out, my hand brushing against skin that felt like heated marble.
Then, the memory of the night before crashed over me. The claws. The fangs. The terrifying, beautiful distortion of the man I had married.
Girard lay beside me, propped up on one elbow. He was human again, but the air around him still crackled with that primal, predatory energy. His amber eyes were fixed on me, dark with a possessiveness that made my skin prickle. He was shirtless, the sheet draped low over his hips, revealing the corded muscles of a stomach that looked carved from stone.
"You didn't scream when you woke up," he murmured, his voice a low, morning rasp. "That's a start."
"I'm too exhausted to scream," I whispered, pulling the silk sheet up to my chin. My body felt heavy, aching in places I didn't know could ache. "What are you, Girard? Truly."
He reached out, his hand tangling in my hair, pulling my head back just enough to expose my throat. His eyes dropped to the faint, red marks his teeth had left. "In your world, I am a businessman. A Don. In mine, I am the Alpha of the Roux Pack. A Loup de Sang. The blood of the first wolves runs through these veins, Arielle. It's why your father feared me. And it's why he sold you to me."
"He sold me because he's a coward," I snapped, trying to pull away.
Girard's grip tightened, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind me of the sheer power he held.
He leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of my ear.
"He sold you because he knew my blood was reaching its boiling point. He knew that without a mate to ground me, I would eventually burn his entire Syndicate to the ground. You are my tether, Arielle. My biological anchor."
He slid his hand down to the small of my back, pulling me flush against him. The heat radiating off him was intoxicating, a drug that my body was already beginning to crave. Despite the fear, I felt my pulse jump, my heart hammering against my ribs.
"Rules, Arielle," he whispered, his hand sliding lower, a slow, deliberate claim. "Rule one: You do not leave this estate without me. Rule two: You do not speak to the other males of the pack unless I am present. Rule three..."
He paused, his eyes flashing a sudden, brilliant gold. He flipped me over with a fluid, feline grace, pinning me beneath him. He was heavy, a solid weight that made me gasp.
"Rule three: You are mine. Every inch of skin, every breath, every thought. If I find another man's scent on you, I won't just kill him. I will make you watch."
"You're a monster," I breathed, my fingers digging into his shoulders.
"I am," he agreed, his mouth dropping to the crook of my neck. "And you are the monster's wife. It's time you learned what that means."
He didn't kiss me. He nipped at the sensitive skin of my shoulder, a sharp sting that sent a jolt of pure, unadulterated electricity through my nervous system. I arched my back, a traitorous moan escaping my lips.
The bond was waking up. And it was hungry.
