Saving His Luna

Magnus didn't loosen his grip. Valera remained anchored against his chest, her weight wholly surrendered to him. His broad hand spanned her ribs, pressing hard over the deepest laceration, while his other arm locked securely beneath her spine. To shift his hold was to risk shattering her completely.

Her blood painted his forearms.

The acrid stench of weaponized wolfsbane clawed at his throat.