12. Daria
Twelve
Daria
Eventually, we make our way to the bedroom.
I don't remember deciding to move.
One minute we're lying on the living room floor wrapped around each other, laughing and catching our breath.
The next, Rand is carrying me toward the bedroom like I weigh nothing at all.
I should probably object.
Tell him I can walk.
Instead, I rest my head against his shoulder and listen to the steady beat of his heart.
Strong.
Steady.
Home.
It's ridiculous.
I've known this man less than two days.
Yesterday morning, I believed Werewolves belonged in fairy tales.
Today?
Today I'm curled up beside one.
Life is weird.
The bedroom is quiet, the late afternoon sun filtering through the old farmhouse windows, painting everything gold.
Rand slides beneath the blankets and immediately pulls me into his embrace.
Not possessively.
Comfortingly.
Like holding me is as natural as breathing.
I melt against him before I even realize I'm doing it.
His fingers lazily comb through my long blonde hair while I trace absent circles across the tattoo covering his chest.
I've never been with a man who liked this part.
The cuddling.
The staying.
The quiet afterward.
Usually, there was an awkward moment.
Someone checked their phone.
Someone got dressed.
Someone found an excuse to leave.
Not Rand.
He's holding me like he's perfectly content to spend the next hundred years exactly where we are.
Then again, I've never actually had mind-blowing, life-altering sex before either.
“Well,” Rand rumbles, his chest vibrating beneath my cheek, “get ready, Honey, because you'll be having a lot of it from now on.”
I freeze.
Slowly.
Very slowly.
I lift my head.
His expression changes immediately.
“What?”
“Did...”
I blink.
“... did you just read my mind?”
He winces.
“Um...”
His ears actually turn pink.
“Yeah.”
I stare.
“I think I did.”
“You...”
Another blink.
“...read...”
I point at my own forehead.
“...my thoughts?”
“I think only because you were projecting,” Rand replies quickly.
Now he looks worried.
Actually worried.
His brows pull together.
“I-I'm still learning how the bond works between us.”
He scratches the back of his neck.
“I probably shouldn't have done that. Shit. I didn't mean to. I swear.”
He's frowning so hard I could almost laugh.
“Wait. You think I'm mad?”
“I'd understand if you were.”
Instead, I grin.
A really big grin.
“Uh uh. That is so cool.”
His mouth falls open.
“What?”
“I said that it's cool.”
“You're not freaked out?”
I think about it.
Really think about it.
Then I shrug.
“I mean...”
I lean back against his chest.
“If I stop and overthink everything that's happened in the last twenty-four hours?”
“I'd probably have a complete mental breakdown.”
He nods solemnly.
“Reasonable.”
“But honestly?”
I lace my fingers with his.
“This is the first time in my entire life I've felt...”
The word catches.
“... happy.”
His arms tighten around me.
“I've spent thirty-six years trying to find someone who understood me.”
I laugh softly.
“My ADHD. My obsession with animals. My inability to sit still. My tendency to accidentally bring home wounded animals that need help. My weird sense of humor. Not to mention my size eighteen ass,” I say and yelp when he smacks said ass.
I glance at him and rub my sore butt. He grins and takes over.
“That’s mine now, Honey.”
He kisses my head, and I grin.
“Anyway, like I was saying,” I continue, and lean into him. “You looked at all of that and somehow decided, yes, I’ll take it!”
I poke his chest.
“Who does that?”
His answer comes without hesitation.
“Me, Honey. Me every time. Because I looked at all of this and my Wolf knew,” he whispers.
Then, he kisses my forehead.
“You’re perfect for me, Daria Woods.”
My eyes sting.
“Yeah? Well, honestly?”
I shrug.
“The truth is, I really don't give a fuck if you come with a side of furry Wolf.”
Rand sits up and hugs me tight. His laughter fills the room.
Rich.
Deep.
Contagious.
“That’s good, Honey. I was kind of hoping you'd say that.”
“But, well, I mean,” I start, pretending to consider it. “You are pretty fluffy in your fur.”
“My Wolf appreciates that observation.”
“Speaking of which.”
An idea pops into my head.
“Oh!”
“What?”
“You know I'm a groomer.”
“I do.”
“Well...”
I smile innocently.
“If your Wolf ever wants...”
I clear my throat dramatically.
“... I could give him a shampoo.”
He raises one eyebrow.
“On the house, of course.”
He narrows his eyes.
“Are you saying my Wolf stinks?”
My mouth falls open.
“What? No!”
He keeps a perfectly straight face.
“I bathe regularly.”
“I didn't mean—”
“I condition.”
“I—”
“I have excellent hygiene.”
“Rand!”
He holds out another second before the corners of his mouth finally betray him.
“I'm just teasing you, Honey.”
I smack his shoulder.
“You jerk.”
“You laughed.”
“I did.”
“So it worked.”
“It absolutely did not.”
He kisses the tip of my nose.
“It absolutely did.”
I roll my eyes.
“I can't believe I fell for that.”
“You'll get used to my sense of humor.”
“I sincerely doubt that.”
“You will.”
“And if I don't?”
“I'll simply spend forever trying.”
Forever.
The word hangs between us.
It doesn't scare me anymore.
Not with him.
Not somehow.
I turn until we're face-to-face.
His moss-green eyes search mine, the ember ring around them catching the fading sunlight.
“So...”
I whisper.
“So.”
“I think...”
I take his hand and press it over my heart.
“... I'm done fighting this.”
His expression softens.
“You are?”
I nod.
“I don't understand everything. And I probably won't for a while. But,” I say and press my hand over his heart, “I know how I feel.”
“Yeah?”
I smile through the happy tears threatening to spill again.
“Yeah. And I know how you make me feel.”
His thumb brushes my cheek.
“Which is?”
“Seen. Safe. Maybe loved.”
I whisper the last softly.
“You are so loved, Daria Woods.”
“Honestly? I've spent my whole life waiting for someone to look at me the way you do.”
He leans closer.
“And I've spent my whole life waiting for someone to look at.”
Our foreheads meet.
The room grows impossibly quiet.
Then I feel it.
Not with my hands.
Not with my skin.
With my heart.
“Rand?”
“I feel it too, Honey.”
And I believe him.
I gasp as a warm thread of golden light unfurls between us.
Like a ribbon woven from sunlight itself.
It wraps gently around us, looping from his heart to mine and back again, pulsing with every heartbeat.
Love.
Hope.
Joy.
Possibility.
“That’s our matebond,” he whispers.
Our matebond.
I gasp.
“You feel it too, don’t you? My amazing mate,” he whispers.
I nod.
“It's...”
I can't find the words.
“Beautiful?”
He smiles.
“Exactly.”
The ribbon pulses once more, warm and alive, as though celebrating with us.
I lift my hand to his face.
“I believe it now.”
“In magic?”
“In us.”
His smile is brighter than the setting sun.
“I was hoping you'd say that. Because you’re it for me, Daria. I love you. I promise to spend my whole life loving you.”
“I-I think I love you too, Rand. I do. I love you,” I whisper, awestruck and full of so much emotion I don’t quite know what to do with it.
Until suddenly, I do.
I lean forward, and this time when our lips meet, there's no fear.
No uncertainty.
Only the promise of forever.
And somewhere deep inside me, our mate bond glows brighter still, wrapping us both in love, light, and all the impossible possibilities of the life we'd only just begun.