I step into the river to bar Rose's path, my hand closing around her wrist while the rival watches from the far bank. Her scent hits like salvation and prey at once, stirring the predator in me that has chased her across these wind-lashed crossings at dawn.

She moves with quicksilver reflexes, chin lifted in defiance even as the mate bond pulls us both toward something she refuses to accept. The unpaid blood tribute means the rival can seize the ranch and her if I do not claim what fate demands before the moon rises.

Yet the thought of losing my last blood tie terrifies me almost as much as the hunger to possess her completely, and I do not know which will break first.