Moira's POV

The lock clicks open with mechanical precision, and Cain enters my luxurious prison like he owns every molecule of air I breathe. His expensive cologne can't quite mask the predatory scent underneath—something cold and calculating that makes my wolf recoil.

"Good evening, my dear." He closes the door behind him with deliberate care. "I trust you've had adequate time to consider my proposal?"

I remain seated on the velvet chair by ...