In Callum’s.
If I attacked Othello now, that would constitute a challenge. If I broke Pack Law and challenged him, if he killed me as a result of a direct challenge, he’d inherit my pack. And the Senate might actually let him keep it.
This was the plan, I thought. All along, this was his plan.
Othello wanted me to lose control. He was goading me, the way he had Selena—and none of that mattered, because this was Ink.
Protect. Protect. Protect.
Strong arms wrapped their way around my torso, holding me in place. Selena? River? Did it matter? Did anything?
I needed to get to Ink.
I needed him.
But Ink just met my eyes. I felt him, felt his calm, felt the warmth of his body in bed next to mine when I woke up each morning. I felt myself fighting with him in the forest and knowing that I
