Page 53 of To Carve A Wolf

I shattered.

My back arched, a strangled cry escaping as I came hard, convulsing under the weight of everything I had denied myself—pleasure, surrender, the terrifying echo of being seen. His name fell from my lips again and again, a litany of everything I couldn't say.

“Andros… Andros… gods—”

Every nerve felt like it had been dragged across flame. Every breath was broken, shallow. Like I had drowned in him—and only now clawed my way back to the surface, raw and exposed.

The wave crested, crashed, and left me soaked in its aftermath. Humiliated. Exposed. I lay there, limp against the sheets, the air cold on my damp skin, my chest rising and falling like I’d been hunted and caught, even though he hadn’t even fucked me.

I opened my eyes.

And he was still there. Still watching me. His chest rose and fell with ragged control, the shadows of the fire flickering across his jaw like war paint, and for a moment, I thought maybe—just maybe—he would come to me. Touch me. Kiss me. Finish what I had started.

But instead, he tilted his head and gave me that slow, cruel smile—the one that meant he had already won.

“Well,” he said, his voice a blade dipped in honey. “Wasn’t that a sweet little performance.”

I didn’t speak. I couldn’t. Shame sank deep beneath my skin, colder than fire, raw and blooming like frostbite. He stepped back—slow, silent, in complete control—his dark blue eyes trailing over me like glacial water, like a tide that had already claimed and reshaped me. The sheets clung low around my hips, my legs still open, body bare and trembling, marked by everything I swore I’d never let him take… and he didn’t just see it—he owned it.

“You remember what you said to me, Lexa?”His voice slid through the bond like silk over a blade, slow, deliberate, cruelly satisfied, as I lay there, trembling and raw, every nerve still echoing with the aftermath of what he’d made me do.

“Animals clawing each other in the dirt, pretending their urges are holy…” He chuckled low, dark. “Funny how sacred it felt when you came whispering my name like it was a gods-damned prayer.”

Yes—I remembered. His study. That fight. The moment I’d spat those words at him, defiant and furious, when he demandedI apologize to that simpering omega.

“And next time…” He paused at the door, hand resting on the frame, his back to me but his voice cutting like a blade drawn across skin. “Think very carefully before you use the bond to bait the beast. You might find out just how much it likes to bite.”

The door shut behind him. And I was alone.

Naked. Exposed.

Every breath scraped against the silence like punishment, and I pulled the sheets over myself—not for warmth, but to cover the sting of what I’d allowed.

No,what I had invited.

CHAPTER 17

Andros

With a bit of luck I made it back to the council chamber with just enough control to pass for composed, but barely. Garrick caught my eye the second I walked in, his stare sharp and unreadable. He didn’t speak, thank the gods. He knew better.

I apologized to our guests for the sudden interruption. Told them it was a patrol issue, something urgent on the eastern ridge. Alek didn’t question it. Maera smiled politely. I even offered a small reduction on trade tax as a gesture of goodwill. A little generosity went a long way with packs like theirs.

They left content, and politically, things remained intact. But inside, I was unraveling.

Lexa.

She had embedded herself under my skin like a thorn. Every breath still carried her scent. The bond had gone quiet since that night, but it wasn’t peace. It was the silence before the break. I could feel it.

So I stayed away. For days, I didn’t see her. I buried myselfin war planning, in drills with the men, in long hours on the ramparts where the mountain wind bit hard enough to distract me. I told myself it was necessary. I needed clarity, control. I needed to remember who I was.The Alpha of Blood Night.Not some tethered fool craving the touch of a woman who would rather die than belong.

And then she came. Not Lexa. Tanya.

She let herself in without knocking, of course. Her footsteps echoed across the stone as she approached my desk, all soft smiles and calculated grace. She was dressed for court, not conversation. Pale lavender silk clung to her curves, her hair twisted up in a style that took too long to perfect for someone with no real business being here.

“Alpha,” she said sweetly. “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

“You are,” I replied without looking up. She didn’t flinch. She never did.

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