DANTE

I hadn't said her name in six years.

Vivienne Ashford. Daughter of the Western Alpha. My first fated mate, given to me by the Moon Goddess when I was twenty-two and she was nineteen. Beautiful and clever and completely, utterly terrified of me.

We'd never bonded fully. She'd asked for time. I'd given it. Three months of careful distance, of trying not to overwhelm her with the intensity of what I felt, of telling myself patience would be enough.

Then the fire.

Her family's estate, ...