I have outrun every threat this preserve has ever faced, and midnight brings one more.
Running is the only thing I have ever been able to count on.
Ashton stands over the maps with me, and his authority reads as safety and as something else entirely.
Last week he dropped his voice and told me to come here.
My legs tensed to obey instead of to run. I have not been able to unfeel it since.
He watched it happen and said nothing. He knew.
That is the shame of it. Not the run. That I have already walked the marked trails deciding where I want to be caught.
He says my name low and everything in me leans toward him.
The run is called, and the rivals will read what it means.
Hunted down the trails. Run to ground. His teeth set to my skin. Marked where they can all see it.
The preserve is lost at midnight without him, being claimed and then left is the wound I swore never to take twice, and I am lacing my boots.
It is a declaration or it is nothing.
What is left of me once they have all seen his mark? What is left of the land if I stand still?
A full-length primal chase, breeding, and claiming bite erotic novel featuring a preserve keeper and the alpha who runs her down.
