Azrael stood on the terrace of the pack house, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon. The night was tranquil, the stillness almost suffocating. Tatiana was inside mourning, grieving for a man who had left this world too soon, stolen from her in a way that left her shattered and unreachable. Luca.
Azrael had known Luca for a fleeting moment but could never disrespect the man he watched give his life to save the woman he loved. The woman Azrael loved. It wasn’t their love that angered him—it was the void his absence left, a void Azrael could not cross.
He clenched his jaw. It was a cruel twist of fate—finally finding his true mate, only to watch from the shadows as she wept for someone else. The moment he looked at her, Azrael knew she was his mate. The pull was unmistakable, the ancient bond written in the stars long before either had taken their first breath.