They told me one more hit would kill me.
So I traded the pit for the ledger and built the biggest underground fighting ring on the east coast. Three years of running it from the booth. Three years of pretending I didn’t miss it.
Then she walked in.
Petra Kazan. Human. Combat medic. The only outsider on the eastern shifter circuit who’s never flinched at blood or alphas or the dark things in mine shafts.
She read my injury report and told me my wolf was eating me alive.
She wasn’t wrong.
She isn’t my mate. No bond. No destiny. No cosmic pull. Just a woman with steady hands and a mouth that doesn’t soften for anyone — least of all me.
But for the first time in three years, my wolf is quiet.
What happens when the only thing keeping me alive is the one thing I can’t fight for?
