Chapter 17
Noa
When I wake, I don’t move at first.
I lie still and wait for the familiar pain to slam into me.
It always hits the moment I try to move, to stretch my sleep-stiff body.
The brittle feeling in my bones, the tension that makes my muscles feel like they’ve been twisted in barbed wire.
Every morning is the same. Every morning, it only gets worse.
So I brace myself when I inhale and stretch my limbs, already expecting the defiance in my ribs as they expand, the burn in my lungs that usually ends with me coughing up blood these days.
But…nothing.
No soul-deep ache. No rattle in my chest. No blood staining my lips as I fight for my next breath. No sickness clawing at me from the edges.
I feel good. Whole.
But something is still off. It takes me another beat to realize what. My hand is pressed against skin. Warm and alive, moving beneath my palm as they draw in their steady breaths.
My eyes snap open and I come face to face with him.
Rennick Fallamhain. Asleep. In my bed.
We’re face to face, so close that one small tilt would have my nose brushing his. One muscular arm rests heavy across my waist, his hand curved protectively at my side as if even in sleep he can’t stop guarding me. The sound that tries to escape me is half laugh, half disbelief.
Then another realization hits, one that sucks all the air from my lungs.
He’s completely, unapologetically naked. At some point in the night, his wolf must have ceded control of their shared skin and shifted back.
This new discovery settles slowly, bringing heat with it, a warmth that crawls beneath my skin and stays there.
I bite the inside of my cheek to stop a noise that would definitely wake him.
My wolf, on the other hand, is wide awake and feeling smug as shit about this development.
She stretches lazily within me, a wolfish smirk firmly in place, clearly pleased that our mate is sprawled out in all his bare glory like some sort of gift.
He’d been just as naked that day in the woods when he’d torn through a witch to get to Ivey and me, but I’d been so out of it at that point, barely staying up on my own two feet, to take any real notice of his body.
And then last night, I’d—mostly—refused to look when he stripped to shift.
Out of stubborn defiance to the challenge he seemed to lie at my feet with that knowing smirk of his.
I hadn’t wanted to give in to the temptation, to give him the satisfaction of seeing me break and my eyes roam.
But now, he’s asleep. Unaware. So, fair game, right?
Sure, whatever you say, Noa. This is fine. Totally not pervy. Just staring at the unconscious pack Alpha like a total deviant. But then again, it’s not like the man’s got a self-conscious bone in his body. He’s pretty, he knows it, and I’m apparently the idiot proving him right.
My gaze drifts down the strong line of his throat, across his built chest, to the rigid planes of his stomach. The faint gray morning light throws shadows, making every dip and line appear more defined. Chiseled.
Rennick looks like something the Goddess carved out of stone just to prove she could.
I reach the groomed dark trail of hair that starts below his navel. Then I move lower and my breath catches.
Even in sleep, he’s already half-hard.
His long, thick cock is heavy against his thigh. It’s the kind of sight that makes heat lick through my veins. I need to turn away. I really do. But I can’t. Not when the ache between my own thighs wakes like a beast stretching after a long slumber.
I’ve never seen a man like this in person. Never had the desire to. Never cared to imagine what it might feel like in my hands. But now…I can’t think about anything else—the low, insistent pulse that tightens every muscle and makes my fingers itch to touch.
My eyes trace the length of him, down to the base where the swell of his knot is faintly visible, and something innate in me keens. Need like I’ve never felt ignites and with it a gush of wetness dampens the crotch of my sweatpants.
A sound slips out before I can stop it. A small, desperate whine that feels ripped from somewhere deep.
Rennick’s eyes snap open.
One moment he’s sleeping, the next he’s fully alert, gaze locking on to mine with unnerving precision.
His gunmetal eyes catch the dim light, the flecks inside burning like molten silver.
We lie there, suspended in silence that blisters, neither of us daring to move.
Both afraid to be the first to fracture it.
Heat climbs my neck, spreading across my cheeks as the truth settles—he knows. The sinful curl at the corner of his mouth gives him away. He’s amused. Maybe even proud of the fact that I couldn’t keep my eyes to myself.
His body seems just as pleased. His cock swells further, lifting between us, the flushed head nudging against my blanket-covered hip.
My stomach drops further, and his smirk grows wider.
“Sweet Noa,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough with sleep. The sound vibrates through the air, all heat and hunger. “This is a dangerous game you’re playing.”
My heart stutters, then picks up a pace that feels unsustainable.
My lips part, but nothing comes out. I should say something witty, something to break the tension, but the words elude me.
Because he’s right. This is dangerous, but no part of it resembles a game.
It feels like something breaking loose inside me.
Another layer of resolve shattering, another line I swore I wouldn’t cross.
“Pretty sure this violates the terms of our deal,” I mumble, trying for sarcasm, but it comes out more breath than bite. My eyes flick down before I can stop myself. Again. “You were supposed to stay the four-legged version of yourself.”
Ren leans in the inch it takes to erase the space between us. His nose grazes mine, the faintest touch, and my breath stumbles. The contact feels like a promise of more, but also a quiet plea for permission to give it.
“Scold me all you want, baby, but we both know you don’t mean it,” he croons, breath dancing across my skin as he skims his lips along the curve of my neck.
He inhales deep, taking a possessive lungful of my scent like it alone feeds him.
“Not when his absence gave you the luxury of getting to gawk at my dick. Tell me, Noa, did you enjoy the view? Did you like what you saw?”
Yes.
My mouth falls open, half gasp, half protest, and my palm on his chest shoves at him, pushing against the hard muscle there. “I wasn’t—”
He snatches my wrist in his hand, his grip warm and steadfast, and with one firm yank, he drags me against him.
Our bodies collide, the impact setting every nerve alight.
My stolen sweater and the blanket separating us might as well be made of paper.
His heat seeps through every layer, threading into my bones.
Then I feel him.
The hard press of his erection against the seam of my thighs.
It’s solid. Heavy. The pressure of it sends a tremor through me.
He’s so close to where I ache most, it’s unbearable, but yet it’s still too far to soothe the need building within.
My body is crying out for him, begging to feel more.
More of him. I arch toward him, reaching for what instinct demands, while my wolf hums in satisfaction, her need winding around mine like heady smoke.
I don’t get the luxury of processing any of it.
One heartbeat, that’s all Rennick gives me to feel his bare chest press to my body and let my gaze roam his face, lingering at his mouth.
My tongue drags across my own bottom lip, a nervous habit or a dare, I’m not sure which.
But either way, it’s what breaks his chain.
The sound that escapes him vibrates between us, not quite a growl, not quite a purr. He releases my wrist and finds the back of my neck, fingers sinking into my hair as he closes the distance. His mouth catches mine, the kiss deep and consuming before I can think to resist him.
Whatever lives beneath thought takes control before I can stop it.
My omega stirs, claws scraping at the inside of my ribs, demanding more.
Closer. Deeper. I meet his hunger with my own, devouring the space between us like it’s life-sustaining air.
The line I’d drawn between us vanishes the second our tongues tangle.
All that’s left is the hum deep in my belly and the desperate urge to keep my alpha close.
I just…need.
It’s all-consuming, something I’ve never felt before.
My palm presses to his chest, feeling the steady hammer of his heart.
It beats as hard as mine does against my ribs.
The other rises, sliding into the short, dark strands of his hair.
They’re just long enough for me to thread my fingers through.
To pull. The slight sting drags a sound from him, low and wrecked, that sends a shiver down my spine and a rush of wet heat gathering where I ache for him most.
Even dulled, my senses catch the shift in the air—the faint sweetness of my slick blooming between us. I know the second Rennick picks up on it. The growl that builds in his chest borders on feral, something born from pure animalistic instinct.
His hands slip under my sweeter, palms gliding up my back in a slow, deliberate climb.
The knitted fabric lifts with them, exposing my skin inch by inch.
Cool morning air rushes in to meet the trail of warmth he leaves behind, a shiver chasing it up my spine.
He stops at the base of my neck, fingers bushing through my hair, sweater caught in the tangle.
He pulls back just enough to breathe against my chin, our mouths still hovering close.
The look in his eyes is a question he doesn’t need to speak.