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"Shift back, Rosalind."

The Alpha command rippled over my skin, leaving no room for refusal. My wolf yielded to his hold. The bones melted and shortened, the fur receded, and in seconds, my human form took over.

When the shift completed, I lay pressed into the dirt—completely naked beneath the crushing heat and weight of my husband. My chest heaved up and down, my heart beating a frantic, wild rhythm against my ribs. I stared up into his dark, looming face. As the overwhelming rush of the run and the shift crashed over me, his features slowly began to blur and go hazy once more.

"I will never touch you in anger, Rosalind."

No? Too bad. Because I kind of liked being pinned beneath him on the ground. Sticks and pebbles digging into my soft flesh provided a counterweight to the soft and hungry reverence I was used to.

"I will never bring you pain. I won't touch you in our bed if you don't want me to. But no... you can't escape me."

He paused, his hand cupping the side of my face, his thumb gently wiping away a strand of grass or twig that had caught in my hair.

"I do not break vows. But I will break anyone who comes between us and those vows. I don't blame you for being afraid of me. But you are the one person on this earth I will never hurt. You're my family now."

His words settled in the cold air between us, heavy and unbreakable. He was close enough to me that I could just make out the shadow of one dimple. My fingers ached to reach up and⁠—

Snap out of it, I commanded myself, taking a harsh, shuddering breath and locking the thought away into a tight, dark chest in my mind. Snap out of it right now. I was stronger than this. I was not a helpless songbird weeping on the side of a highway.

Gunnar thought he was my keeper. He thought he was my protective Alpha shield. But as I listened to the steady beat of his heart—a man capable of horrifying, seamless violence to protect what he considered his—a cold realization washed over me.

He was my husband. He was bound to me by vows he swore never to break. But more, Gunnar Blackwood was not my prison. He was my soldier. And I was going to use him.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

GUNNAR

The forest floor was quiet, save for the ragged sound of my own breathing as Rosalind shifted back into her human skin. Fuck, she was beautiful.

I'd seen plenty of wolves in my life. I'd grown up surrounded by them. But I'd never seen anything like Rosalind. Her coat was a rich golden brown, lighter along her chest and belly, darker down her back and at the tips of her ears. She was smaller than my wolf, built lean and quick, with delicate paws and a narrow muzzle that should've made her look fragile.

She didn't. She looked wild.

My wolf shoved against my skin, pissed that I'd kept him locked away for the chase. He wanted out. Wanted four paws on the ground and her scent in his nose. Wanted to chase her between the trees, knock her off her feet, roll with her through the leaves. Nip at her heels when she tried to get away and lick her face when he caught her.

The vicious bastard wanted to fucking play with her. I couldn't remember the last time my wolf had wanted anything that simple.

Rosalind's golden-brown fur began to recede. The last remnants of her wolf faded away, leaving her bare on the damp earth. This was the first time I’d ever seen her completely naked. On our wedding night, under the dim moonlight of the bedroom, she’d remained mostly clothed—guarded, distant, wrapped in layers of lace and silence.

Now there was nowhere to hide.

My eyes swept over her, completely unable to pull away. She was staggering. Her skin was a rich, smooth café au lait, a stark contrast against the dark midnight of her tangled hair. Her nipples were dark, tight against the chill of the evening air, crowning full breasts that tapered into a narrow waist and flared out into wide, nibble-worthy hips. She was a perfect hourglass—curved and soft all at once.

And through it all, those pale, silver-light eyes were fixed right on me, watching my every breath as I crouched down to scoop her up.

I wrapped my arms beneath her knees and back, hauling her naked body up against my chest. Her bare skin burned like a fever against my shirt. Her heat soaked straight through the fabric. I turned and began the trek back through the dense tree line toward where I’d left the truck.

Rosalind shifted in my arms. Slowly, she turned her face into the crook of my neck. Her warm breath washed over my pulse point, sending a jolt straight to my balls. A second later, her lungs expanded, and her breathing evened out into a slow, steady rhythm.

She wasn't asleep—her heart was beating too steadily for that—she was just... calm. Resting against me, her body soft and yielding, as if she trusted me entirely to carry her weight and handle whatever came next.

It knocked the air out of my lungs worse than when she'd recoiled at me after I'd killed that lackey in the bathroom. I squeezed her a little tighter against my ribs, mentally beating down the roaring pulse in my dick as I finally reached the truck, pulled open the passenger door, and set her inside.

It was dark out now, and we weren't under a streetlamp. Still, no one would see my wife naked but me. My jacket was cold against her bare skin, but it was the only barrier between her nakedness. I slammed the door, my shoulders finally unbunching now that she was locked inside a territory that I controlled. Rounding the hood, I threw myself into the driver’s side and shifted the vehicle into gear.

My knuckles turned white where they gripped the steering wheel. I kept my eyes fixed on the winding road ahead, refusing to glance to my right, but my wolf didn't care about propriety. The beast purred at the sight of its finest catch. Inhaling, her scent filled my chest and expanded my wolf's. My dick throbbed, pressing hard against the fabric of my pants.

Fuck's sake, control yourself.