PREVIEW
... every muscle in my body before my mind could even process why. Citra’s voice carried that same tone of authority she’d used when telling me not to mark her during the thunderstorm.
Or when confronting me when we first met. I’d been obeying her from the very beginning. In ways that my wolf should have continued to bristle over. At being commanded by someone who wasn’t even properly mated to me.
Instead, it settled into instant submission - as if it agreed this state was exactly w ...
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