Dorian paced the length of his chambers like a caged wolf, his footsteps wearing a path in the expensive carpet.
The fire crackled in the hearth, casting dancing shadows across the walls, but he barely noticed.
His mind was a battlefield of conflicting thoughts and desires, each one warring for dominance.
What had he done?
The ultimatum he'd given Willow echoed in his mind, each word a testament to his cruelty.
He had threatened her with rejection, the cruelest fate that could befall a mated wolf, unless she agreed to bear his heir.
He had reduced their sacred bond to nothing more than a breeding arrangement, treated her like livestock rather than his mate.
His wolf snarled at him, disgusted by his actions. It didn't understand politics or duty or the weight of the crown. All it knew was that their mate was in pain, and he was the cause of it.
