His eyes narrowed, and she felt his fae powers pulse around him. He released her and stepped away. Crina felt the rejection hit her, nearly knocking the breath from her body. She forced herself to stay on her feet, and she bit her lip to keep the tears from falling. To her surprise, he didn’t turn and march out of the room, or say, “Yes, we’re falling apart.” Instead, he pulled his shirt over his head and stood before her in all his chiseled glory. Mine, her wolf whispered inside of her head.
“These markings,” he said, pointing to the black tattoo-like design that traveled down the right side of his neck to his shoulder, down his arm, and down the right side of his back. “Would I have these if we could fall apart?”
Crina stared at him, dumbstruck, as she often was when he started undress
