Chapter 22
Eb
There’s a million things I want to say to this woman.
A million apologies.
A million promises.
A million stupid, sappy declarations I never thought I’d feel—let alone mean.
But Marigold’s kissing me like her life depends on it.
And fuck me, I can’t stop.
Because I know—I know—mine does.
Her lips are soft and wild all at once, her tongue tangling with mine in a way that sets my blood on fire.
She tastes like honey and cinnamon and the kind of home I didn’t think I deserved.
My arms tighten around her on instinct, pulling her flush against me like I could absorb her into my skin, into my bones, into the very soul of me.
Because that’s what she is.
My soul.
I need her more than air.
More than food or water or—heaven help me—honey.
And that’s saying something.
Because Badgers? We don’t play when it comes to honey.
We’ll climb cliffs, raid beehives, fight literal bears just to get our paws on the sweet stuff.
And Marigold? She’s that for me.
She’s the sweet I’ll burn the world down to protect.
My Honey.
Mine.
Mate.
The word pulses through me with a need so fierce I can barely think.
Every instinct I’ve got is screaming to claim her again.
To mark her, brand her, bite her neck and bury myself inside her, fill her with my cum until it’s leaking out of her—I want that. I want to stamp myself all over her.
And I don’t want to stop until she knows with everything inside her what she is to me. What I am to her.
Mate.
Claim. Mark. Don’t stop until everyone knows it.
She reaches between us, her fingers nimble and desperate as they work at my buttons, then tug at my belt.
The sound of leather sliding through the loops shoots straight through me.
And my beast?
Yeah, he’s on board.
Get. Naked. Now.
My growl rumbles deep in my chest as she pulls back just far enough to gasp, “Oh, Eb, I don’t know what this is between us, but I need you.”
I’m already working on the zipper to her dress before she finishes the sentence.
“How do I get this off?” I snarl, desperate now, my hands everywhere at once.
She gives me this little smile—soft and wicked at the same time—and it hits me so hard I damn near stagger.
“Here,” she murmurs, turning around.
I see the tiny zipper at the back and thank the Goddess, my thumbs already finding it and sliding it down with fevered reverence.
Her skin is smooth and warm beneath my fingertips, and I have to bite back the urge to sink my teeth into her right then and there.
Then she says, “Whatever this is, it feels big, Eb. More than just a dating app match.”
I freeze.
Just for a breath.
Because I know I need to say it.
Not just the words. The truth.
“It is big,” I rasp. “And no, I’m not talking about my cock—although that’s probably true too.”
She lets out a breathy laugh, and the sound makes my heart do this ridiculous skip-thud thing.
“Conceited much?
“Nah, Honey. Not conceit. Fact. Look how hard I am for you,” I growl and her eyes drop to my crotch.
I lower my voice, more serious now.
“All kidding aside, you’re my mate, Marigold. That’s not just a line. I marked you. I claimed you—but maybe I didn’t realize what it really meant until I was halfway to the hospital and couldn’t breathe without thinking about you.”
I feel her tense.
The zipper is down.
Her dress is loose.
But I can’t move.
Not until she listens.
“I didn’t just claim you, Honey. I fell in love with you. Completely and totally in love,” I whisper the truth even though it’s scary as fuck to admit.
“You claimed me? You love me?” she asks, her voice small but sure. Hopeful. Like she wants it to be true but needs to hear me say it again.
I look at her, gaze locked on her like she’s the only star in the sky.
“Yeah, I did and I do, Honey,” I say, low and steady. “And I’ll spend every damn day proving I’m worthy of it. If you’ll let me.”
She turns slowly, the velvet slipping from her shoulders like melted chocolate. She sucks in a breath and lowers her arms.
The dress pools at her feet in a gentle swoosh of fabric, hope, and best intentions.
And I almost forget how to stand.
She’s wearing this thing.
A teddy—I think it’s called.
And now I’m harder than stone.
It’s all shimmering gold thread and sheer, teasing patches that show me just enough to light my blood on fire and not nearly enough to satisfy my craving.
She’s glittering like the treasure she is.
And I know I’m the beast who was born to guard her.
Gods help me, I covet this woman.
“I-I want you to claim me again,” she whispers. “Here. Now.”
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
My cock starts twitching inside my boxers, already dripping precum.
This woman is going to kill me.
I growl—deep and primal—as I step forward and scoop her into my arms again. This time, I don’t bother pretending I’m in control. I’m not.
Marigold owns me now.
And she doesn’t even know it.
“I was hoping you’d say that,” I whisper against her mouth.
Then I kiss her.
Like a Badger possessed.
Because I am.
By her.
And this time?
She doesn’t pull away.
She presses closer.
And when I carry her toward the glowing hearth and lay her down in front of the fire—her honey-sweet scent all around me, her heart beating just beneath my hand—I know this isn’t just a moment.
It’s ours.
The beginning of a forever that smells like cookies, sounds like laughter, and tastes like fate.