I spent years building walls around my authority so the pack would never see how much I need to be chosen instead of feared, but Idris's habitual neck tilt exposes a submission that calls to every instinct I have denied.

His quiet answers mask a hunger for belonging that matches the forbidden pull in me, turning the required mating into something that could shatter the control I have fought to keep.

At the dawn-lit border gate our hands brush over the dropped marker with the rival watching from above, and the thought of the bite and knot that would claim him completely leaves me breathless with the choice I must make.