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Tracking to his desk, he gripped his office chair from behind with such force that its spine twisted as a spectral wolf-like apparition rose above him.

It tore from his sinew and bones in a vivid gold, violet, and black flamed spectacle. Coalescing into the form of a giant ethereal wolf, howling without sound at the roof.

Mind churning and roiling, transfixed with one image:her.

His spectral core stirred like a sleeping wolf waking, nostrils flaring not for blood, but for her. For the woman called Savvine Bianchi.

The one woman it seemed his lycan spirit wanted him to claim.

Fokk!

He clenched his jaw as the urge roiled over him.

Hell, thewant. It wasn’t just desire, it was the primal call of claiming.

His instincts licked at his control like wildfire catching on dry bone.

It was in his marrow. Taking over his mind and soul.

Claim her. Knot her. Mark her. Make her yours.

He had no control. His freaking body, soul and spectral spirit was dictating his savage response.

He gripped the leather inlay, knuckles whitening, and locked his gaze forward, but the logical part of his brain reeled with questions, each sending lurches through him.

Could a woman like her ever want a wolf? A spectral lycan? One forbidden by her family’s decree?

He knew what the Bianchi legacy meant.

It ran on duty, heritage, and old-world codes too ancient for the stars.

They didn’t mate across species, across genetic divides, across the fractures of the post-Collapse era. Especially not with shifters like him.

It was too soon to wonder if she’d ever feel the same, given he’d never spoken to the woman, so he tamped his wild lust down and slammed a wall over the raw desire rising inside.

His wraith-like wolf spirit writhed and snarled above.

Xander growled, commanding it to cease its savage keening.

He reined in the heat that coiled low in his spine, quieting the howl of instinct screaming for her.

He shuddered as his spectral wolf energy snapped back into him.

Still, his heart pounded and body thrummed.

Xander inhaled, forcing the air down, steadying the chaotic pace of his thoughts.

He’d mastered worse storms.

He wouldn’t let himself lose control. Not here. Not now. Not when he couldn’t be sure she wanted it, or him.

Deep in his soul, he sensed that their paths would cross. That much was inevitable, for his lycan anima had never led him astray.

When they did cross paths, and if she ever gave him a sign, he’d move stars to meet it.

Until then, he’d keep his distance, while the beast inside him watched and waited.

He shook away the feral, savage urge and, with a deep inhale, tracked back to the bridge.