Epilogue
AVA
SIX MONTHS LATER
The rumble of Dante’s bike reverberates through my chest as we pull up to our new apartment. I swing my legs off the back of the bike, my boots crunching on the gravel, and I can’t help but grin like a fool.
Everything is going so damn well. A year ago, this was all a dream. I never expected my investigation—even if not complete—would bring people forward. I never expected it would resonate so well with others.
The girls who had accused Thorne came forward. They’re renewing the accusations against that the Congressman. It’s everywhere in the news now. They also brought up proof that they were threatened into silence and though Thorne denies any involvement, I know this is not the end.
I catch Dante’s gaze as he hops off the bike. His eyes are full of pride.
“We’re not done yet,” I remind him, trying to keep the intensity at bay, if only for a little while. “Thorne will find ways around it.”
Dante’s gaze softens, and he pulls me close, his arms wrapping around my waist. “It’s alright. We’ll keep hunting him. We’ll keep going until he gives in.” Dante buries his fingers into my hair. “I was thinking about something else.”
“Were you? About what?”
He presses his lips to my ear. “About how good my mate feels wrapped around me.”His voice is a low rumble, sending shivers down my spine.
His mouth finds mine, and I lose myself in the kiss, the taste of him, the feel of his stubble against my skin. I laugh into the kiss, too giddy to hide it. Dante lifts me, our lips never parting, and I wrap my legs around his waist, feeling his warmth against my thighs.
Our new apartment is small, still filled with boxes, but it’s ours. I can hear the distant hum of the city, but here, in our little sanctuary, it feels like we’re the only two people that matter. Dante closes the door behind us, his eyes never leaving mine, and he carries me to the bed as if I weigh nothing at all.
He lays me down gently, his hands tracing the curves of my body. My heart races as he undresses me, his gaze never breaking away from mine. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his fingers lingering on the edge of my shirt, teasing me.
I pull the shirt off and arch my back, inviting him closer. He doesn’t disappoint. His mouth finds my breasts, his tongue circling my nipple, sending waves of pleasure crashing through me. I tangle my fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, aching for more.
Dante’s mouth moves lower, his lips brushing against my inner thigh as he tugs my pants down. He kisses me there, his tongue darting out, tasting me, and I can’t help but moan. His fingers find me, delving inside, and I writhe beneath him, my hips bucking against his hand.
The pleasure builds, my breath hitching as I climb higher and higher. And then I’m there, teetering on the edge, and Dante doesn’t let me fall. He catches me, his mouth on mine, his tongue exploring, tasting me as I come undone beneath him.
I can feel the primal need in him, the way his eyes darken when I show him my neck. Archer told me how it works. He told me how important a mating mark is to a shifter.
“Mark me,” I whisper. “Make me yours.”
Dante swallows. His chest rises and falls. Then all hesitation is gone.
He flips me over, his cock brushing against my ass, teasing me, and I whimper. And then he’s there, his sharp teeth sinking into my shoulder.
Pain explodes on my side and I wince, pulling away from him. It’s an instinct. Dante holds me down in place, letting his teeth sink.
Then something clicks inside me. And it feels right .
My body changes. The pain grows dull until it almost disappears. Pleasure takes over. The sheer weight of his body over mine, the feeling of his skin, is enough to make me wetter than ever.
“Mine,” he growls, and I can feel it, the truth of his words echoing through me as he enters me from behind. I cry out, the sensation indescribable, the feeling of him inside me, claiming me, marking me as his own.
The pleasure builds again, higher and higher, and I can feel myself spiraling, on the edge of something incredible. Dante claims me with every sharp thrust of his hips. I cry out his name as I come apart beneath him, my body trembling with how massive the orgasm it is.
But Dante’s not done. He takes me over the edge again and again, and every new orgasm is better than the previous. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt.
It’s a binding of souls. And I know that no matter what the future holds, I’m his, and he’s mine.