Craving His Cursed Mate

Warning: R18+ "I, Dante Valerius, recognize no bond with a gutter-witch. You are nothing but a night’s mistake." I knew the scent of a Valerius before I saw him: gunpowder, expensive bourbon, and the blood of my ancestors. I went into The Obsidian to steal back my family’s heart, but the moment Dante Valerius pinned me to black marble, I lost my soul. He was a surgical predator. I was a "crazy-ass" witch from the slums. Yet, in the dark, our feud didn't matter. He touched me like a man starving, marking my skin and claiming my soul in a night of raw, forbidden surrender. But when the sun rose, the Alpha chose his throne. To save his Syndicate, he used the Ritual of Rejection to tear our bond apart, leaving me to wither in the gutter while he prepares to marry his "pure" princess. He’s wrong. He didn't destroy the bond; he poisoned it. Now, I am a ghost in his veins, a fever he can’t sweat out. Through our fractured link, I feel it all: the way his skin itches for my touch, the way his wolf howls for the mate he discarded, and the filthy, forbidden fantasies he has about dragging me back to his bed. Dante Valerius wanted a mistake. Now, he’s a slave to a craving he can’t satisfy. He wants to hate me, but every time he closes his eyes, he’s begging for a taste of the witch he cursed. I’m in his head, I’m in his blood, and I’m the only cure he’ll never be allowed to have.