Mine.
The world buzzes in my ears, and time seems to slow.
Alpha's standing now, veins protruding from his neck as he shouts at the Lycan King. Ellie's yanking on Rafe's arm, but he isn't looking at her. He's looking at me, his blue eyes dark and angry, as if I've somehow done something wrong.
My wrists and legs hurt where the rope still bites into my skin; there's no doubt I'm the king's captive, not anything he considers precious. And yet there's my brain, lost and stuttering over his words.
Let me see who dares touch what's mine.
Me? His?
My eyes return to the Lycan King, the source of this mess. His back is to me as he confronts my pack.
Muscles ripple beneath his shirt, each movement deliberate and controlled. The black ink of his tattoos shifts across his skin; at first, I thought of them as serpentine and slithery, but right now I can see they're more like soft ropes of shadow caressing his skin. The patterns almost dance, mesmerizing in their fluid grace.
