Everything about that woman had become white and small, doll-like. The hands, the tiny fingernails, even the eyelashes. Her skin looked like polished porcelain and Aidan could almost swear he could see her glow, with that special opaque light the moon had. Or maybe it was simply because she was his.“You are my Moon...” he murmured caressing her face, and suddenly the man, the heir to the throne, the Alpha protector of Casthiel's lineage emerged in him.She looked helpless and innocent, but that was the operative word: “looked”. If she really had been, her father would have never locked her in that cell in the Watchtower. It was a disgrace that after so many centuries of solitude, the Alpha's destined mate was precisely an enemy of his crown.And yet he needed and desired her, his whole spirit insisted on claiming her, on possessing her. It was rightly said that the bond between two mates was the most powerful bond among the lycans, and now Aidan was experiencing it firsthand, because
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