Mine.
Emotion hit so hard it physically hurt.
Because seeing her wrapped in fabric cut from the skies of Asgard itself only solidified what I already knew deep inside my bones.
She had been made for me.
The breeze shifted then.
And her scent reached me.
Vanilla.
Jasmine.
And beneath it—still me.
My own scent clung softly to her skin from the night before.
Possessive satisfaction rolled through my chest immediately.
Mine.
Eternally mine.
I lifted my face to the sky.
The blue moon would rise soon.
Perfect timing.
The stars overhead aligned beautifully tonight, celestial pathways crossing directly through the Institute’s ley nexus.
A claiming ceremony beneath a blue moon happened perhaps once every few centuries.
Fate itself practically screamed at me to claim her publicly.
And I intended to do exactly that.
I moved silently through the crowds cloaked in shadow magic, invisible to everyone except the beings powerful enough to sense me.
Unfortunately, that meant I overheard far more than intended.
Including every word about her mother.
About Gunner.
About the possibility of Amrin leaving Runevald.
Rage detonated instantly.
My vision flashed silver.
That fucking Wolf wanted to court her?
Mine?
Absolutely fucking not.
