Ulric Bloodfang, The Lycan King
Fury gnawed at me like a starving beast, trapped within the cage of my self-control.
Every fiber of my Lycan being strained towards Isabella, towards the scent of wildflowers clinging to her skin and the warmth that radiated from her even across the vast expanse of the garden. I hadn't realized, not truly, how maddening the mere act of being near her could be.
The frustration of those stolen moments in the woods simmered within me, fueled by the undeniable pull of the mate bond and the raw, primal desire raging through my veins. I craved her. Not just physically, though the ache in my body was a constant reminder of that yearning. I craved her mind, her spirit, the very essence of her being.
The frustration was a double-edged sword. Here I was, king of
