Chapter 12
TWELVE
Christian
Five Years Later…
I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the way my life is now.
Not because it’s overwhelming or chaotic—though it is, in the best possible way—but because it’s good. The kind of good I believed was only meant for other people. The kind of good my wolf dreamed about because deep down, he knew something was missing.
Her.
My mate.
My Quinn.
I lean against the doorframe of my office at the clinic, watching her move through the lobby like she owns the place. Because she does.
The clinic has grown since those early days when it was just me, two nurses, and a prayer that I’d be able to keep up.
We now have two additional doctors, both shifters.
Two more nurses. A bigger waiting room. Extra exam rooms. A real break area that Quinn insisted on adding because, in her words, “If I’m going to be married to a hero doctor, I’m also going to make sure he eats. ”
And she didn’t stop there.
She didn’t just make sure I ate. She made sure everyone did.
Quinn has always had this way of walking into a room and improving it without even trying. Like the world makes more sense with her in it.
She’s wearing scrubs today, dark green that match her eyes, hair pulled back into a ponytail. A few pieces have slipped loose, framing her cheeks.
And the mark on her neck…
My mark.
It still makes my wolf swell with possessive pride.
“She’s intimidating,” one of the newer nurses whispers as she passes me, holding a stack of charts.
I raise a brow.
“She’s five feet of sunshine,” I deadpan.
The nurse snorts, then lowers her voice even more. “She just stared down a grown man who didn’t want to fill out paperwork and made him apologize to the receptionist.”
I can’t stop the grin tugging at my mouth.
That’s my mate, my wolf says proudly.
Quinn glances up and catches me watching her. Her lips curve, like she’s pleased she still has my attention five years later.
She always has it. Always will.
She makes her way toward me, eyes bright. When she stops in front of me, she reaches up and straightens my collar like she’s done it a thousand times, which she has.
“You’re brooding,” she says.
“I’m admiring,” I correct.
She hums like she’s amused as I step in close, sliding a hand around her waist and tugging her against me. My wolf purrs, and she answers with that quiet little pulse I’ve always felt through the bond.
I kiss her temple.
Then her cheek.
Then her mouth, soft at first, like I’m reminding her who she is to me, and who I am to her.
Her mate.
Her home.
“Christian,” she murmurs against my lips, and my name sounds better from her mouth than it ever has anywhere else.
“What?” I ask, my voice rough.
She smiles slowly, like she knows exactly what she’s doing to me. “We have patients.”
“Let them wait.”
She laughs, and it hits me right in the chest. Every time. Like the sound rewires something in me.
I used to be wound too tight, too controlled, too responsible. I thought my life had to be sacrifice and duty.
Then Quinn showed up, got shot on a hiking trail, and ruined everything in the best way.
She taps my chest, drawing my attention. “You’re bad.”
“I’m mated,” I correct.
Her cheeks flush a little even after all these years.
She glances around the hallway, like she’s checking for witnesses. Then she leans in and whispers, “Meet me in your office in five minutes.”
My wolf surges inside me, and my entire body reacts like I’m still that starved, desperate male who tasted her blood and decided the world could burn as long as she lived.
Quinn steps back like nothing happened, like she didn’t just promise me something I’ll spend the next five minutes barely surviving without.
She turns to leave, then pauses and looks over her shoulder. “And Christian?”
“Yes, mate?”
Her smile turns softer. Real. Vulnerable in that way she only is with me. “I love you.”
I don’t care how many times I hear it; I’ll never stop needing it.
“I love you,” I echo. The words are a vow, a truth, and a claim.
She disappears into the lobby.
I count down the five minutes like my life depends on it.
It kind of does.
When she finally slips back into my office, I lock the door before she can even tease me about it.
Quinn laughs as I prowl toward her. I cross the room in two strides, catch her by the hips, and lift her like she weighs nothing. She makes a delighted sound as I sit her on the edge of my desk.
Then I step between her knees and kiss her again.
This isn’t frantic. It isn’t desperate. This is five years of knowing her body. Five years of learning the exact way she likes to be touched, kissed, loved. Five years of loving her so much it hurts.
She fists her hands in my shirt, tugging me closer.
“Someone could need you,” she whispers, breathless.
“They have other doctors,” I mutter.
“I like this version of you.”
“The one who neglects his duties?”
“The one who chooses me,” she corrects gently.
That hits me hard because she knows exactly where my head goes when work piles up, when danger shows up, when my wolf wants to hunt down threats and rip them apart. Duty, responsibility, protect everyone. But the difference now is that I understand something I didn’t before.
Quinn comes first.
Always.
I press my forehead to hers. “I will always choose you.”
Her eyes soften. “I know,” she whispers. “That’s why I stayed.”
My throat tightens because some part of me still remembers the fear. Her running. Her trying to go back to her old life because she didn’t think she mattered enough to be first for anyone.
I kiss her again, slower this time. Like I’m telling her without words that she’s safe here, loved, worshipped.
Mine.
Her hands slide up my neck, nails scraping lightly through my hair.
“You’re thinking too hard,” she murmurs.
“Can’t help it,” I admit.
Quinn kisses the corner of my mouth. “Then let me help.”
She pushes me back in my chair with a look that makes my wolf sit up straight inside me. Then she climbs into my lap like she owns that, too, like she’s always belonged there.
She wraps her arms around my neck. “I want you.”
That’s all it takes.
I hold her close and kiss her until the world shrinks down to just us—the bond, the heat, and the pulse of fate humming between our bodies.
Quinn is my mate.
My miracle.
Five years later, and I still don’t know how I got so lucky, but I’m going to spend the rest of my life proving I deserve her.
My hands go to her hips, and I bury my face in her neck, breathing in deeply.
My wolf tenses inside me, and I freeze when I catch a hint of something mixed in with her scent.
Quinn pulls back, staring at me in confusion.
“What?” she asks breathlessly.
I take another deep breath, needing to be sure.
I lock eyes with her. “You’re pregnant.”
Quinn blinks, and her mouth drops open. “What?”
I smile. “I can smell it. You’re pregnant, mate.”
“I… Are you sure?” she whispers, excitement shining in her eyes.
“Yeah, but we can do a test if you want.”
Quinn places her hands on her stomach and looks at me with wonder.
I kiss her. Hard. Like, I’m trying to fuse us together.
When I pull back, I press my forehead to hers. “Thank you.”
“For what?” she asks shakily.
“For choosing me.”
Quinn’s expression crumples. “Christian…”
“For staying. For becoming my mate. My wife. My life.”
She touches my cheek. “There was never a choice. Not really.”
“There was,” I argue softly. “And you still chose me.”
Quinn kisses me gently. “I’ll always choose you. Forever.”
My wolf howls in agreement.
I wrap my arms around her and kiss her forehead. “Let’s go home.”
As we gather our things and head out, I know one thing with complete certainty.
I healed her.
But she saved me.