The chains bit into my wrists like fangs as I was dragged into the Mad King's throne room, the air thick with the metallic tang of blood and the low growls of his enforcers. My heart thundered, not from fear, but from the seething rage that had fueled my raid on his palace. Max Kerr lounged on his obsidian throne, his golden eyes gleaming with feral madness, his massive frame radiating power that made my inner wolf whimper despite my hatred.

He rose, stalking toward me like a predator scenting prey. The moment our gazes locked, a scorching spark ignited in my veins-a primal pull that clawed at my soul. Mate, my wolf howled inside me, the word echoing in a secret mind-link that shouldn't exist between enemies.

"No," I snarled, yanking against my bonds, but his scent-dark woods and storm-invaded me, stirring a forbidden heat low in my belly.

His lips curled into a wicked smile, voice a velvet rumble laced with danger. "You feel it too, little rebel. The Moon Goddess's cruel gift. Your body betrays you, aching for my claim, even as you plot my death."

I spat at his feet, pulse racing with suspenseful dread and unwanted desire. "Touch me, and I'll rip out your throat."

He leaned in, breath hot against my ear. "Oh, I will. And you'll beg for more."

Tension coiled like a serpent, promising ecstasy wrapped in ruin.