Chapter 9 Power

• THE OPULENCE of Waldemar’s chambers had quickly morphed from a gilded cage into a gilded torment. Every silk thread, every polished piece of wood, every scent in the air was a constant, suffocating reminder of her captivity and the Alpha who claimed her. The Moonbind was a living, breathing entity within her, a relentless current of unwanted desire that pulsed beneath her skin. Waldemar had given her clothes, food, and the freedom of his luxurious suite, yet her essence felt more chained than it had in the dungeon’s cold embrace.
• He hadn't returned since the brutal kiss that manifested the claiming mark, a brief reprieve that offered no solace. Every moment was a battle against her own body. The craving was an insidious fire, burning low but steadily, promising an inferno if denied. It flared with every stray thought of him, every whiff of his lingering scent on the sheets, every tremor of magic that stirred within her.
• Selene refused to surrender. She wouldn't be broken. She wouldn't let him win. Her magic, finally unchained and roaring to life after the claiming mark’s emergence, was her only weapon. She spent hours, when she was sure no one was watching, deep within the chamber, experimenting. She tried to sever the connection, to push Waldemar’s presence from her mind. She tried spells of repulsion, of disconnection, arcane words whispered into the silent air, her hands glowing with faint, silver light.