Davian.
The moment she stepped into my room behind me, I knew control would be an issue.
Not because she spoke, not because she moved, but because the air shifted, because her scent followed her in, soft at first, then fuller, warmer, settling into the space like something alive. It slid beneath my skin before I could brace myself. It wasn't overpowering. It wasn't deliberate.
It was simply her.
And that was the problem.
It wrapped around my senses, familiar and dangerous, stirring instincts I had spent years mastering. My wolf shifted restlessly beneath my skin, brushing against my restraint, testing it.
"Oh, Moon Goddess," I muttered under my breath, barely above a whisper, my jaw tightening as I stared down at the desk instead of at her. "Why put my brothers and I in this type of torture?"
It was absurd. I was an Alpha. I had stood in the middle of battlefields without flinching. I had negotiated treaties with men who would slit my throat if I blinked at the wrong time.
