Desire. Raw, burning, absolute desire.
As I stared at Seraphina sprawled beneath me on the altar, I felt every shred of control disintegrating. The thin fabric of her dress clung to her curves, her dark hair spilled across the stone like a midnight waterfall, and her blue eyes—goddess, those eyes—gazed up at me with an unholy mixture of fear and undeniable want.
"Is this really you?" I growled, searching her face for any sign of the spell's influence. "Or is this another trick?"
Her chest heaved with rapid breaths. "What do you mean?"
I gripped her chin, forcing her to meet my gaze directly. "You're in heat. I can smell it on you, thick and sweet." I inhaled deeply, my nostrils flaring. "But you shouldn't be able to go into heat without an inner wolf."
Something flashed in her eyes—panic, perhaps—but it was quickly consumed by the dark dilation of her pupils.
"It's your blood," she whispered, her voice breaking. "Your blood triggered it."
