The master’s lair reeked of blood and decay. The air was thick with power — old, hungry power that breathed through the walls like a living thing. Runes carved into the black stone pulsed faintly, resonating with the same energy that now churned inside McKenna’s veins.
Her body trembled, every breath scraping through her lungs like broken glass. The darkness inside her clawed for dominance, whispering promises that almost sounded sweet.
> “Give in, little wolf,” the master murmured, his voice deep and almost tender. “You were never meant to be theirs. You were meant to be mine.”
He lifted his hand and the mark on her chest — the rune that had branded itself into her skin — flared to life.
McKenna screamed.
Her back arched violently as the pain tore through her body, searing through
