Mark's POV
The corridor blurred as I stormed toward Violet's private solar. My blood was on fire. My wolf was howling so loudly inside my skull that I could barely hear my own footsteps. Pregnant. The word Madeline had thrown at me kept repeating like a death sentence.
Violet was carrying a child, and it might not be mine. The thought alone made my claws extend fully, slicing into my palms until blood dripped down my fingers. I didn't feel the pain. All I felt was the bond, my incomplete, raging bond, screaming at me that something inside her now belonged to both of us… or worse, to him.
I didn't knock.
I slammed the door open so hard the hinges groaned in protest.
Violet stood near the center of the room, one hand resting lightly on the back of a chair as if steadying herself. She was wearing a simple lavender gown, hair loose around her shoulders. Both marks on her throat were visible, mine and his. The sight of them sent another wave of possessive fury through me.
