Chapter 29

• The sting of Dante’s teeth on the left side of my neck burned in direct, agonizing harmony with Ryder’s jaw clamped tight against the right. I was pinned between them, held suspended in a suffocating web of heat, sweat, and heavy, ragged gasps. The twin stings on my shoulders thrilled through my nervous system, but as the intense haze of release slowly receded, cold panic began to claw its way up my throat.
• I grew up a wolf. I knew the ancient laws written into our marrow.
• A female wolf carried one mate mark. One. It was a biological, spiritual tether—an absolute claim that sealed two souls together. Ryder had already branded me. His scent was locked into my blood. By every rule of pack biology, Dante’s teeth should have triggered an immediate, violent rejection from the mate bond—a primal flare of agony meant to protect the original claim.