The moment she spoke to his wolf, he knew. He knew he would keep her. Not just as a concubine, not as some temporary indulgence, but as something more. His something more.
Manic had never been completely ruthless, not at first. Losing his mate had done that to him.
Mara had turned her back on him the moment their eyes locked, right after the Moon Goddess herself declared them fated mates. Lucas, young and untested as Alpha, had felt whole for the first time in his life. He had visited the Crimson Pack at the invitation of their former Alpha, a routine gesture of goodwill and dominance between packs. And there she was.
She had been across the room, helping omegas set up the tables, her fingers adjusting silverware, her lips curving into a patient smile as she worked. She had been breathtaking, radiating a quiet strength that made Manic roar his claim inside Lucas's head. Mate. He had been so loud that half the wolves in the room had instinctively bowed their heads in submission.
