Off Limits

"Zeev!" Marrok reached out for his wolf again, but the silent was absolute—Zeev has really shut him off—It felt like a heavy door had slammed shut in his face.

He inhaled sharply, his head falling back against the headboard, his fingers curling into the sheets. His muscles ached, body still throbbed from the lingering remnants of whatever force had torn through him earlier. But that pain—that he could handle.

What unsettled him the most was the overpowering emotions that comes with the attacks.

Sorrow. Agony. Desperation.

They had crashed over him like an unrelenting tide, dragging him under with no chance to surface. Each wave struck harder than the last, and today—today had been the worst. He had believed the physical pain was gone for good, only for it to surge back—heavier, crueler, and more merciless than before.

Who the hell does the emotions belongs to?