Heiko's fingers barely grazed the cold bronze handle of River’s door before he recoiled sharply as if the metal had seared into his skin, his chest heaving with the weight of barely restrained instinct and fury, the scent of her presence bleeding through the wood like a siren’s call.
The pain wasn’t physical, not really, at least not in the traditional sense, but it was real enough, a backlash of conflict and denial that pulsed like fire through his veins. His hand twitched as he stepped back from the door, his breath shallow and fast, and in the depths of his mind, his beast roared.
“Are you insane?” He barked at it, voice cracking not just in his mind but aloud, raw and ragged. “We can wait—six days, that’s all. She’s not ready. We are not mated yet. It’s not right to bring her to bed
