One meeting can turn the world upside down, especially a meeting with someone who reads your essence like a book. Witcher? No. Varg. A werewolf, unaffected by the moon. Where does he get such a rare gift for seeing what you desperately want to hide from those who bend the representatives of their own coven under themselves? Who is he, this incredible man, bearing on his face the marks of the struggle for the right to live? Why is something that seems so important to him, distorted, distorting what he sees and forcing him into bondage with suppressed magic? How not to drive your heart into a cage in which it will beat desperately without his love and affection, because for him, this wolf in human form, passion is not love. Or maybe everything is not what it seems, and the illusion that is part of the heroine’s world will actually provide a true tandem of quenching the thirst of the body and the aspirations of the soul?