A Bond Unchosen

ROMAN

I'd lived through blizzards that froze wolves solid. Survived battles that left me scarred and bleeding. Endured the crushing weight of Alpha responsibility for years. None of it had prepared me for the storm of sensation that was making love to Vanessa.

"Are you sure?" I asked again, poised above her, every muscle in my body straining with the effort of holding back.

Her eyes—those incredible gray-blue depths—locked with mine. "Yes," she whispered. "Please, Roman."

That soft plea shattered my restraint. I entered her in one smooth motion, and the world tilted on its axis.

She gasped, her back arching off the bed, fingers digging into my shoulders. The connection between us flared, white-hot and primal. It wasn't just physical—it was elemental, as necessary as breathing.

"Fuck," I groaned, struggling to keep still while she adjusted to me. "You feel..."

Words failed me. How could I describe perfection? The absolute rightness of being joined with her?