His touch was a soothing balm, a stark contrast to the jagged, clawed grip Varg had left on my soul over the past week. He held my hand firmly, pulling me away from the silhouette of the stone fortress that had become my living tomb.
Every step we took away from that castle felt like a layer of lead being lifted from my shoulders, and yet, my body felt strangely hollow, as if I had left a vital organ behind in those cold stone halls.
But just as we reached the shelter of a colossal oak tree, where the shadows of the forest were thickest and the air was still, Kael stopped. The urgency in his step vanished. The "hero" who had been sprinting toward my salvation suddenly stood still.
His gaze, once full of frantic worry, dropped. It slid down my face, past my trembling, frostbitten lips, and settled with a clinical precision on the curve of my neck.
My neck—still bare.
Still unbranded.
Still lacking the jagged teeth-marks of the Alpha who had claimed my nights.
