McKenna’s eyes shot open.
Her lungs filled with a desperate gasp, like she had been drowning in the dark and had just broken the surface. The air around her was thick with energy—hot, charged, alive. The forest wasn’t quiet. It was singing. Every leaf, every tree, every blade of grass hummed with the aftermath of what had just happened.
Azeo was on his knees beside her, panting heavily, his hands trembling as if the earth itself had passed through him. His mark glowed faintly where his fangs had pierced her skin—pale silver, edged with a deep crimson pulse. It wasn’t supposed to look like that. Marks didn’t shimmer like living fire.
But then again, nothing about McKenna was supposed to be possible.
She blinked, her vision slowly clearing, and the moment she met Azeo’s eyes—storm-gray,
