Chapter Nine
Bast O’Connor
Fated at First Kiss
The gravel crunches under my truck’s tires as I pull up to my cabin. The familiar scent of pine and wild sage envelops me as I cut the engine, but it’s overpowered by something else tonight. Something intoxicating. Bridget.
Her lavender and thunderstorm scent fills the cab, making my wolf pace restlessly beneath my skin. I take a deep breath, trying to center myself. This is really happening. My fated mate is here, with me.
“This is it,” I say, gesturing to the cabin. “Home sweet home.”
Bridget’s breath catches as she takes in the rustic structure, her gaze drinking in every detail—from the weathered logs to the sprawling porch. “It’s beautiful,” she whispers, her voice carrying a note of reverence.
A warmth spreads through my chest at her words, and I can’t help but stand a little taller, proud that my home has earned her approval.
I lead her up the porch steps, my hand resting lightly on the small of her back. The touch makes my wolf rumble with satisfaction.
I unlock the cabin door, my movements sure and deliberate despite the tension thrumming through my body. I guide Bridget inside, hyperaware of her warmth beside me, the subtle shift of her muscles under my palm.
“Welcome to my humble abode.”
The cabin’s open living area comes into view—worn leather furniture, a stone fireplace, and large windows offering a breathtaking view of the surrounding forest. It’s not much, but I can tell she likes it and that’s all that matters.
My hand lingers on her back as she takes it all in, and I have to fight the urge to pull her against me, to bury my face in her hair and breathe in her intoxicating scent.
The wolf in me is restless, eager to claim, but I force myself to stay calm.
We have all night, and I intend to savor every moment.
“Make yourself comfortable,” I say, gesturing to the couch. “Can I get you a glass of wine?”
Bridget nods, a small smile playing on her lips. “That would be lovely, thank you.”
As I head to the kitchen, I hear her settling onto the couch. The sound of her heartbeat, slightly elevated, fills my ears. She’s nervous. Hell, so am I. This is everything. My fated mate. The one.
I pull out my phone while I’m grabbing the wine, unable to resist texting Rachel.
Me: Went home with a woman. She’s my mate, but her eyes are glowing green. Do you know what that means?
As I hit send, a giddy laugh threatens to escape my throat. It feels surreal, like I’m watching someone else live out a fantasy. My mate. Here.
The three dots appear almost immediately, sending a jolt of nervous anticipation through me. Rachel’s typing, and I can almost hear her excited squeal from here. I pour two glasses of red wine, my hand trembling slightly as I try to focus on the task.
My gaze keeps darting to my silenced phone screen. Part of me is bracing for the inevitable teasing, but mostly I’m desperate for answers.
Rachel: Glowing green eyes? That’s what happens when a witch finds her kindred, her fated mate. She’s a witch. Who are you with?
A witch. I’m not surprised, but why hasn’t she said anything? Although, to be fair, it’s not like I immediately volunteered that I’m a werewolf. But she has to know if her eyes are glowing that I’m her kindred—her fated mate. She knows.
Me: A tourist who was here for the Faire. Tell you more tomorrow.
After the message goes through, I shut my phone off.
No more interruptions tonight. Rachel can wait.
Bridget will come clean about everything when she’s ready.
I can be patient. What matters is that she’s here, and she’s mine.
I just need her to know this is it for me. She is it for me. This is forever.
I step back into the living room, wineglasses in hand, and the sight of Bridget steals my breath away. She looks up, her glowing green eyes meeting mine, and the world tilts on its axis.
My chest tightens. This is what I’ve been wanting for years. Waiting for. The wolf in me howls in triumph, and it takes every ounce of control not to drop the glasses and pull her straight into my arms.
“Here you go,” I say, handing her a glass. Our fingers brush, and a thrill runs through me. From the way Bridget’s breath catches, I know she feels it too.
I settle beside her on the couch, close enough that our knees almost touch. The scent of her wraps around me like a life preserver. She’s what I’ve needed all along.
“So,” I say, taking a sip of wine to wet my suddenly dry throat. “What brought you to White Fork? Besides the Faire, I mean.”
Bridget’s gaze flicks away for a moment before meeting mine again. “Just…exploring, I suppose. Sometimes you need a change of scenery.”
I nod, sensing there’s more to the story. We just met. I want to know everything, but there will be time for that. We’ll have our whole lives. “Well, I’m glad you found your way here. Very glad.”
Bridget takes a long sip of her wine, and I find myself mesmerized by the movement of her throat as she swallows.
When she lowers the glass, there’s a smudge of red on her lower lip. Without thinking, I reach out, my thumb gently brushing it away. Bridget’s breath hitches, her eyes widening at the contact.
Time slows as we stare at each other. I lean in, giving her time to pull away if she wants to.
She doesn’t pull away. Instead, Bridget moves closer. Her eyes flutter closed. The sight of her long lashes against her cheeks, the soft curve of her lips, it’s almost too much.
I take her glass and put it on the coffee table next to mine. My heart thunders in my chest as I close the final distance between us. When our lips meet, it’s like a supernova exploding behind my eyelids.
Her taste floods my senses—the richness of the wine we’ve been drinking, an underlying current of something wild and electric that must be her magick, and beneath it all, a flavor that’s uniquely her. My wolf howls in triumph.
More. Mine. Mate.
The kiss starts soft, almost tentative, but quickly deepens. My hands find their way to her waist, pulling her closer until she’s flush against me. The heat of her body through her clothes is maddening. I want more, need more.
Bridget’s fingers tangle in my hair, her nails scraping lightly against my scalp. The sensation sends shivers down my spine, and I can’t hold back a low growl of pleasure. She responds with a soft moan that I feel more than hear, the vibration of it against my lips driving me wild.
I trace the seam of her lips with my tongue, silently asking for permission.
She grants it eagerly. As our tongues meet, dancing and exploring, I’m lost in a haze of sensation and emotion.
Relief at finally finding her. The one. Joy at the perfection of our connection.
A bone-deep satisfaction that unfurls inside of me like a long-held breath.
Her long brown hair trails over my hands where they’ve moved to cradle her face. The silky strands slide through my fingers as I angle her head, deepening the kiss even further. She tastes of promises and forever, of moonlit runs and lazy Sunday mornings. Of a future I’ve always hoped for.
The need for air finally forces us apart, our chests heaving in unison.
A soft whimper of protest escapes Bridget’s lips, echoing the ache I feel at the loss of contact.
I can’t bear to be any farther from her than necessary, so I rest my forehead against hers, our breaths mingling in the space between us.
My thumbs stroke her cheekbones, memorizing the soft curve of her face as if I might never get another chance.
All that exists is Bridget, her warmth, her scent, and the electric current humming between us. I force my eyes open, needing to see her, to make sure this isn’t some dream I’ll wake up from and find myself alone again. She’s here. She’s real. I drink in the sight of her.
Bridget’s eyes slowly open, and I’m struck anew by their beauty. They’re luminous, the green glow even more intense now, like backlit emeralds. Her lips are swollen from our kisses, her cheeks flushed a delicate pink. She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
“Wow,” she whispers, her breath fanning across my lips.
I can’t help but chuckle, feeling almost giddy. “Yeah,” I agree, my voice rough. “Wow.”
We stay like that for a moment, just breathing each other in. The air between us is charged, electric with possibility.
Then Bridget surges forward, capturing my lips again. This kiss is different from our first—hungrier, more urgent. Her hands frame my face, holding me to her as if she’s afraid I might disappear.
I respond in kind, my arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer.
My wolf revels in her enthusiasm, urging me to claim, to mark, to make her ours completely. I want nothing more than to pin her beneath me and show her exactly what she does to me. But I hold back, letting Bridget set the pace.
She breaks the kiss, both of us panting. There’s a look of determination on her face that sends a thrill through me. Slowly, deliberately, she shifts her position. My breath speeds up as she moves to straddle my lap, her knees on either side of my hips.
The heat of her core rests against my hard erection. My hands instinctively move to her hips, steadying her. The weight of her on me, the scent of her arousal mingling with her natural scent—I’m in heaven.
Bridget looks down at me, her hair creating a curtain around us, shutting out the rest of the world. In this moment, nothing exists but her. Her slightly parted lips, her flushed cheeks, the rapid rise and fall of her chest. She’s magnificent.
“Is this okay?” she asks, her voice husky.
I nod, not trusting myself to speak.
Bridget leans down, her lips brushing against mine teasingly. “Good,” she whispers, before claiming my mouth once more. Her tongue explores as her hands tangle in my hair. I let her lead, my own hands roaming her back, feeling the play of muscles and delicate curves beneath her shirt.
A shirt I very much want to remove.
“Bridget.” Her name falls from my lips like a prayer as I cup her face. Every fiber of my being screams to continue, to lose myself in her, but I can’t.
Not yet.
My wolf paces restlessly beneath my skin, urging me to claim her, but the man in me needs to be sure.
I meet her gaze. “Are you sure about this? Because…this is forever. There’s no going back.
” The words feel inadequate to convey the weight of what I’m offering—my heart, my future, my very soul.
“I need to know you feel it too, that this isn’t just…
a moment for you.” I have to know she wants to be bonded to me.
I search her face, my heart in my throat, looking for any flicker of hesitation or doubt. Time seems to stretch, each second an eternity as I wait for her response. If she says no, if she walks away… I don’t know how I’ll survive it.
“I know,” Bridget whispers, her voice husky and sexy as fuck. Her gaze bores into mine. There’s no doubt there, only a hunger that matches my own. “I want this. I want you. All of you, Bast, for as long as I can have you.”
Relief floods through me, so powerful it’s almost dizzying. She feels it too. She wants the same thing.
With a low growl, I stand, scooping Bridget into my arms. She lets out a surprised laugh.
I carry her to the bedroom and lay her gently on the bed.
I take a moment to drink in the sight of her.
Hair fanned out on my pillow, eyes glowing with want and magick, lips swollen from our kisses. Mine, my wolf howls. Ours.
I join her on the bed, hovering over her. “Last chance to back out,” I murmur, even as every cell in my body screams at me to claim her. “This is forever, Bridget. I’m never letting you go.”
For a half a second, I see a flash of hesitation. But then she reaches up, pulling my face to hers. “I want you,” she breathes against my lips. “Now, Bast.”
Those words end my ability to think rationally. “Yes, ma’am.”