The camp was alive with heat.

The Blood Moon still hung heavy above the forest, casting the clearing in crimson light. The ground was wet with dew and sweat, the fire still burning from the ritual. Cora sat in the center of it all, surrounded by the wolves. Her wrists were no longer tied, but freedom was a word that no longer meant anything here.

She could feel the pack in every breath she took. Their scent clung to her skin. Her thighs still trembled from their touch. Her neck ached from ...