Aysel's POV The scream tore through the dawn silence. Mine. Before I could scramble away, a heavy arm locked around my waist, dragging me back into the solid wall of muscle and heat behind me. "What are you yelling for?" The voice against my ear was low, rough, and threaded with amusement. "Sleep a little longer." Sleep? My body was rigid, my heart pounding like a drum. The scent of him-cold steel, burnt cedar, and something darker-filled the air. It was the kind of scent that warned every sane wolf to run. But his arm didn't loosen. "You-why are you in my bed?" I hissed, shoving at his chest. It was like trying to move a mountain. He cracked one eye open, silver flashing like the edge of a blade. "Correction, little Vale-you're in my bed." My jaw dropped. "I was sleeping on the couch!" "You wandered in yourself." His voice was thick with sleep, lazy, unbothered. "Didn't lock the door. You must have sleepwalked." "I don't sleepwalk!" "Apparently, you do." He didn't even bother pretending to care. I twisted, trying to break free, but the more I moved, the tighter his arm became. A low rumble rolled in his chest, half warning, half instinct. And then-spirits above-he buried his face in the curve of my neck. His stubble scraped against my skin, rough and intimate, and his breath slid warm against the pulse at my throat. My wolf bristled, heat sparking under my skin. Every nerve screamed danger. And yet... it wasn't just fear that made my body tremble. "Relax. Nothing happened," he murmured, voice husky and close enough to taste. "Then maybe stop acting like it did," I managed, trying to sound composed even as my pulse betrayed me. He ignored me entirely, like an Alpha dismissing an inferior wolf's protest."Let me go." "No." "Magnus-" He made a sound that might have been a growl or a sigh. "You said you owed me. Sleep beside me for a month-we'll call it even." I blinked, staring at him like he'd just grown another head. "Excuse me?" "Just sleep," he said with infuriating calm. "No bite marks. No claiming." His mouth curved lazily, dangerously. "Yet." I froze. Yet? Saints of the Moon. Was he serious? "Does no one teach you boundaries where you come from?" I snapped. "Boundaries?" He finally opened both eyes, silver burning like moonlight through smoke. "I don't have any." I almost choked. "You-you can't just-" "Can't what?" he drawled. "Share a bed with a wolf who screams like she's being murdered at sunrise?" "I screamed because you were in my bed!" "My bed," he corrected smoothly, voice full of mock patience. "Try to keep up, little Vale." If I could have shifted right then, I would've happily bitten him. "Don't you have a mate or a girlfriend or something?" I asked instead, exasperation and disbelief warring inside me. "No." He didn't even hesitate. "Single. Unmated. No she-wolf." "Then maybe ask if I do?" That finally made him look at me-really look. The humor faded, replaced by something sharp and assessing. His hand slid up my waist, fingers tracing the line of my ribs. "I don't care if you did," he said softly. "From today, you won't." My breath caught. "You-what-?"But he'd already closed his eyes again, like we hadn't just crossed twelve kinds of moral lines. I lay stiff in his arms, glaring at the ceiling, every muscle taut. The warmth of his skin seeped into mine, his slow, steady breathing maddeningly calm. I'd known this man for less than a handful of days, and somehow I was already sharing his bed. Damon Blackwood-the Alpha I'd spent nearly two decades beside-had never once even touched the edge of my sheets. Three years of love, and not a single morning like this. Maybe that said everything. Because with Magnus-whoever he really was-there was no pretending, no restraint, no walls. Just danger and something wild enough to make my wolf stir. Fine. He wanted a pillow? He'd get one. For a month, I'd play along. Then I'd be gone. He shifted suddenly, dragging me closer until my back was flush against his chest again. The weight of his arm pressed heavy around my waist, possessive. "Stop thinking," he muttered against my hair. "It's too early for that." I bit back a snort. "You don't even know me." His lips brushed my temple-barely there, but enough to make my heart lurch. "You think I need to know you to keep you here?" "You're insane." He chuckled, a low rumble that vibrated through my bones. "So they tell me." My wolf paced inside me, torn between irritation and something far more dangerous. There was a pull between us, primal and unexplainable, and I hated it-hated how easily he seemed to read me without even looking. "Get some rest," he said finally. "You'll need it." "For what?" He smiled into my hair. "For surviving me." Before I could come up with a retort sharp enough to cut through the tension, a loud pounding echoed from the door. Magnus's entire body went still. The air shifted-thick, electric, lethal. His eyes snapped open, cold and predatory, no trace of the lazy wolf from a moment ago. "Stay," I whispered, pressing a trembling hand to his chest. "I'll handle it." He didn't move. But the pulse under my palm was a growl waiting to break free. Whoever this man was, he wasn't someone the world believed alive. "Please," I added. "Let me go." After a long, tense pause, his grip loosened. I slipped from the bed, legs unsteady but determined. My body still hummed with the echo of his touch, my skin tingling where his scent clung-smoke, steel, danger. Whatever waited beyond that door, it was safer facing it alone than letting a wolf like him off his leash. The pounding came again, louder this time. I crossed the room, pausing at the door. Behind me, I could feel him watching, his energy coiled and ready to strike. Just as I reached for the handle, his voice rolled across the room-low, dark, and almost amused. "Remember what I said, little Vale." His tone sent a shiver down my spine. "You can run, but you'll still be mine by nightfall." I didn't turn around. But the mark his scent left on my skin burned all the same.