Chapter 16
Chapter
Sixteen
Iwake to fire beneath my skin.
Every inch of me burns, a fever with no source, a thirst with no remedy. The furs feel like sandpaper against my hypersensitive skin. I kick them away, gasping as cool air hits my overheated body.
“What’s happening to me?”
My wolf stirs, restless and hungry in a way I’ve never experienced. Mate, she whines. Need mate.
The claiming mark on my throat pulses in time with my racing heart. Each throb sends waves of heat cascading through my body, pooling low in my belly and between my thighs. I press my legs together, seeking relief that doesn’t come.
Instead, the pressure only intensifies the ache.
I’ve heard whispers about this—wolves in my old pack discussing heats in hushed tones. But I never imagined I would experience one. How could I? I can’t shift.
Yet here I am, burning from the inside out.
Burning for Ryker.
His name forms in my mind and my body responds instantly, a fresh wave of desire making me arch against the empty bed. Through our bond, I sense him—distant but approaching, his presence growing stronger with each passing moment.
He knows.
The door to our chambers opens, and Ryker steps inside. Even in the dim light, I can see his eyes glowing—one amber, one crimson—fixed on me with an intensity that should terrify me but only makes the ache worse.
“Kitara.” My name in his voice is a physical caress.
I bite my lip to hold back a moan. “Something’s wrong with me.”
He approaches slowly, like a predator stalking wounded prey. His nostrils flare as he scents the air, and a growl rumbles deep in his chest.
“Nothing’s wrong,” he says, voice rough with restraint. “It’s your heat.”
“But I can’t shift,” I protest weakly, even as my body betrays me by arching toward him.
“The claiming triggered it.” He stops at the edge of the bed, not touching me though I can see how much it costs him. “Your wolf may be trapped inside, but she’s still there. Still part of you.” His hands clench at his sides. “Still calling for her mate.”
A whimper escapes me. “Make it stop. Please.”
His expression darkens. “I can ease it.” His voice drops lower. “But only if you’re certain.”
Despite the haze of need clouding my thoughts, I recognize what he’s offering—and what he’s asking. Permission. Choice. Even now, with both our wolves howling for completion, he waits for my consent.
“I need you.” The words pour out before I can stop them. “I don’t understand what’s happening, but I know I need you.”
Something in him breaks at my admission. In one fluid movement, he’s on the bed, his powerful body caging mine. His scent—earth and stone and wild places—surrounds me, intensifying the ache to an almost unbearable degree.
“This will be different,” he warns, his voice strained as he fights for control. “The heat changes things. Makes it more... intense.”
I reach up, touching his face, feeling the tension in his jaw. “I’m not afraid of you.”
His eyes flash. “Maybe you should be.”
With that, his mouth claims mine in a kiss nothing like the ones we’ve shared before. This is possession, pure and raw. His tongue slides against mine, demanding surrender, and I give it willingly, melting beneath him as heat sizzles along every nerve.
His hands are everywhere—tangling in my hair, cupping my breast, sliding down my side to grip my hip with bruising intensity. I should feel trapped beneath his massive frame, but instead, I feel sheltered, safe despite the storm raging inside me.
“You’re burning up,” he murmurs against my throat, his lips finding the claiming mark and sending a jolt of pleasure so intense I cry out.
“Yes,” I gasp, my hands clawing at his shoulders as he sucks at the mark. “Ryker, please—”
He pulls back, eyes wild as he studies my face. “Tell me what you need.”
“I don’t know,” I admit, frustrated tears pricking my eyes. “Everything hurts but feels good at the same time. I just need... more.”
Understanding flashes across his face. With deliberate slowness, he drags his hand down my body until his fingers brush the slick heat between my thighs.
“Here?” he asks, circling my entrance with maddening restraint.
“Yes,” I hiss, hips bucking against his hand.
He slips one thick finger inside me, and I nearly come undone from that alone. A second finger joins the first, stretching me, preparing me, his thumb finding the bundle of nerves that makes me see stars.
“So wet,” he growls, his control visibly slipping as he works me with his hand. “So ready for me.”
I reach for him, desperate to touch, to taste, to have all of him. My fingers fumble with the fastening of his pants until he catches my wrist.
“Not yet,” he says, voice tight. “You first. Need to make sure you’re ready.”
Before I can protest, he moves down my body, replacing his fingers with his mouth. The first touch of his tongue against my core sends lightning through my veins. He devours me like a starving man, his powerful shoulders keeping my thighs spread wide as he tastes every inch of me.
The pleasure builds, a tidal wave I can’t escape and don’t want to. When it crashes over me, I scream his name, my body arching off the bed as the first orgasm of my heat washes through me.
But instead of satisfaction, it only feeds the flames. The relief is momentary, the need returning stronger than before.
“More,” I beg, reaching for him. “Please, I need more.”
Ryker rises above me, his eyes glowing with primal intensity. He sheds his clothing in quick, efficient movements, revealing his powerful body—all sculpted muscle and battle scars. My mouth goes dry at the sight of him, thick and hard and ready.
He positions himself between my thighs, the blunt head of his cock nudging my entrance. Through our bond, I feel his struggle for control, the wolf in him demanding he take, claim, breed, while the man fights to be gentle.
“It’s alright,” I whisper, framing his face with my hands. “I won’t break.”
His smile is feral. “No, you won’t.” He pushes forward slowly, inch by exquisite inch, stretching me around his considerable girth.
“Perfect,” I finish for him, lifting my hips to take him deeper. “And it will be. Because it’s with you.”
His expression softens even as his body remains taut with restraint. He leans down, capturing my lips in a kiss more tender than I expected given the circumstances.
When he’s fully seated within me, he pauses, letting me adjust to the intrusion. The feeling of fullness is overwhelming—physically, emotionally, spiritually. Through our bond, I feel his pleasure mirroring my own, the connection between us strengthening with each shared heartbeat.
“Mine,” he growls against my lips, the word both possession and promise.
“Yours,” I agree, wrapping my legs around his waist to draw him even deeper.
That simple action breaks his control. With a sound more wolf than man, he begins to move, his powerful body driving into mine with a rhythm that speaks to something primal inside me. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure radiating from where we’re joined, the heat in my veins turning molten.
His pace increases, driven by the dual needs of our wolves, recognizing their other half even as our human sides are still learning each other. The bond between us flares with each movement, carrying sensations back and forth until I can’t tell where my pleasure ends and his begins.
I feel the change in him first—the subtle swelling at the base of his cock that signals his approaching climax. The knot I’d felt once before but still wasn’t prepared for.
“Ryker,” I gasp, both warning and plea.
“I know,” he grits out, his movements becoming more urgent. “Can you take it? All of me?”
“Yes,” I answer without hesitation, instinctively tilting my hips to receive him fully. “Give me everything.”
With a final powerful thrust, his knot locks inside me, stretching me to the edge of pain before tipping over into blinding pleasure. The pressure against sensitive nerves triggers another orgasm, more powerful than the first, tearing a cry from my throat that echoes off the stone walls.
Ryker follows immediately, his release hot and copious inside me, his massive body shuddering with the force of it. Through our bond, I feel his satisfaction, his wonder, his fierce joy at claiming me so completely.
We remain locked together, his weight supported on his forearms as he presses his forehead to mine. Our breath mingles, our heartbeats gradually slowing to match each other’s rhythm.
“Better?” he asks, voice rough with exertion.
I nod, the burning fever temporarily banked though not entirely gone. “How long will this last?”
“The heat? Three days, maybe four.” His hand strokes my hair back from my face with surprising tenderness. “We’ll weather it together.”
“And this?” I shift slightly, gasping as the movement tugs on where we’re still joined.
His smile is pure male satisfaction. “About half an hour, give or take.” His lips brush mine. “Long enough for you to rest before the next wave hits.”
As if summoned by his words, I feel the heat beginning to build again, slower this time but no less demanding. My body tightens around his still-hard length, drawing a groan from him.
“Already?” he asks, a mix of surprise and anticipation in his tone.
I smile, feeling strangely powerful despite my vulnerable position. “Disappointed?”
His laugh is dark and promising. “Not even slightly.” He shifts his weight, somehow managing to flip our positions without breaking the intimate lock between us so that I straddle his lap, his knot still firmly seated inside me.
The new angle sends sparks of pleasure shooting through me, making me gasp.
“This time,” he says, his hands settling on my hips, “you set the pace.”
I rock my hips slowly, experimentally, relishing the way Ryker groans beneath me, the way his hands grip my thighs, letting me move but not guiding.
I move again, deeper this time, the motion sending delicious friction through my core. I can feel every inch of him, the stretch, the pressure, the sheer fullness.
His breath shudders. “Kitara…”
I set the pace, slow and devastating, grinding my hips in steady circles that keep us locked together and send sparks dancing along my nerves. His eyes never leave mine—those mismatched flames burning with devotion and something older, something wild.
The tension coils tight, heat and hunger sharpening with each pass, and then—
It happens.
The world shifts.
I’m still riding him, but it’s like I’ve fallen inward.
The stone walls melt away, replaced by moonlight and trees. A forest. Wild. Free.
I see him there—Ryker. But not Ryker. His wolf. Massive. Silver-streaked and scarred and magnificent.
And beside him—me.
My wolf.
She’s real. Solid. No longer trapped. She’s running, howling, fur brushing his as we race through the night. I cry out, not in fear, but in release.
“Ryker—”
I lean forward, instinct screaming, and sink my teeth into the curve where his neck meets shoulder.
His roar echoes through both worlds—real and vision.
I feel his knot swell again inside me, locking us in place. His hands tighten, his mouth finding my breast, his hips buck once, twice—and he breaks, spilling into me with a cursed growl.
Around us, the dream-forest bursts into silver flame, and our wolves howl in unison. A chorus of belonging.
His blood touches my tongue, and I realize what I’ve done.
I’ve completed our mate bond.
I collapse against his chest, trembling and gasping. His hands are in my hair, on my back, his heart a thunder beneath my cheek.
“You saw it,” I whisper. “The forest. Our wolves.”
“I did.” His voice is hoarse, reverent. “She’s beautiful, Kitara. Just as you are.”
I close my eyes, a single tear slipping free. “We’re not broken.”
“No.” He kisses my temple. “You just needed to be seen.”
The heated ache is gone, replaced with a fierce and molten need. Satisfaction curls through me, and I have a bone-deep certainty that he is mine.
I shift slightly, and his hands slide instinctively to hold my hips. His breathing is ragged, lips parted, eyes half-lidded but glowing.
“You bit me,” he murmurs.
“I did.” I’m shockingly unapologetic. “I marked you back.”
A low, reverent laugh escapes him. “I fucking loved it.”
I drag my fingers through the sweat-damp hair at his nape. “You’re mine, Ryker. All of you.”
He looks at me like I’ve become the sun. “Say it again.”
I lean down, lips brushing his. “Mine.”
The bond flares again, bright and burning and whole. His blood still lingers on my tongue, metallic and alive, and my wolf stretches in triumph.
I feel full. Not just from his knot, still locked inside me, but from the rightness of it all.
He strokes my spine, voice rough with awe. “You feel it too.”
“Everything.” I rest my forehead to his.
“Good.” His voice is all gravel and affection. “Want to bite me again?”
I smile.