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Before we even had our formal bonding ceremony, my parents rushed me and Damian through the most sacred ritual in the werewolf world: the soul-bond. My name was officially inscribed in the history of the Nightwood Pack.
I told Damian everything about my past with Kaelen.
When I finished, he gently traced the faint red scar on my wrist, his heart aching, and pressed a soft kiss to it.
“I will handle the matter of the false accusation. You don’t need to worry about it. Once your wrist is fully healed, I’ll take you to choose a gown for our ceremony.”
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