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marking
56. Lorenzo I thought she would be asleep by the time I left the office and returned home. But when I saw the light on in her room through the window, that old wave of anxiety washed over me, unshakable. Damn it. I have never felt this way about a she-wolf before. I had never been afraid of one either. But this one? “It’s because she’s our mate. Tell her the truth!” Mark, my wolf, growled, demanding to be released, to go to her, to mark and claim her. He was angry and restless, a force of nature roaring in my head. “No, we can’t do that, buddy,” I bit back, tightening my jaw as Mark threatened to wrest control from me. The struggle was real—my teeth clenched hard, my fists balled at my sides, trying to keep him contained. “Get back there! Now!” I shouted at him, aiming myself
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