Chapter Thirty-Ryan
I wasn’t sure what hit me harder—her flying into my lap behind the wheel of my own truck, or the ridiculous amount of joy radiating off her when she did it.
One second, I was offering to let her drive, thinking she might get a kick out of it.
The next, Donny was sitting atop my thighs, wriggling into place with a devious glint in her golden hazel eyes and announcing she’d steer while I handled the pedals.
I knew it was a terrible idea.
I also knew I wasn’t saying no.
Not to her. Not ever.
Something bright and wild fluttered in my chest as I gripped the wheel and tried not to combust from the feel of her soft body bouncing on top of me with every bump in the road.
Her joy was infectious. Her laughter was pure magic. And beneath all of that?
Heat. Need. Hunger.
I felt it—hers and mine—rushing through the fragile bond already knitting between us.
A whisper of emotion that wasn’t mine, yet lived in me anyway.
Hope. Mischief. A spark of reckless love blooming like fire.
I barely had time to process it before—BOOM—we smashed straight into one of Castor Corner’s infamous moving fire hydrants.
This was one of about a dozen things on the list Conrad and I were slowly getting through, righting the wrongs the former fire chief had made.
See, Evie’s idiot ex-boyfriend was the old Fire Chief, and he was an unscrupulous Wizard if ever there was one.
The idiot had magicked off the curb, then turned them invisible all because of some hair-brained scheme to increase firehouse efficiency. As if.
Anyway, neither Donny nor I had noticed the damn thing until it was too late.
She was safe, though. I made sure of that.
My arms were wrapped around her, and I cradled her precious head in my hands.
The street? Not so much.
Water exploded sky high, geysering over my freshly waxed hood like we were in a romcom gone off the rails.
“Shut up,” I snarled at Jaxson, who was trying really hard not to bust a gut laughing at us from his position on his motorcycle just outside the truck.
“Who was driving?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow while he called a tow truck to hook up my ride.
“Me!” Donny and I both yelled at the same time.
Evie and Bella came running from their cars, and a few others came out of their houses too, alarmed by the splash heard 'round the block.
Conrad wasn’t far behind, all wide eyes and concerned expression.
“Guess I wiggled when I should’ve sat still,” Donny murmured, cheeks pink, lips tilted up in a grin from her antics.
My heart squeezed at the sound of her voice, and yeah, I blushed too.
I was a grown-ass Grizzly Bear Shifter with firefighting muscles and a culinary school diploma, and I was blushing like a teenage cub.
Donny explained what happened with a mix of sass and sheepishness, but I could tell her pride was smarting.
She didn’t like being the center of a mess, even one as comical as this.
“I’ll take that,” I said, snagging the ticket from our friendly neighborhood Sheriff with a grunt.
Nobody was hurt, and the town insurance would cover the damage.
The only thing truly bruised was her ego—and maybe my truck.
“Is everyone okay?” Evie asked. “Good,” she continued when we nodded, “Bella and I did a quick check, an in and out sort of thing, of the Castor mausoleum, and no sign of Grandpa Al today. So, I vote we go home, sleep on it, and start afresh tomorrow.”
“Okay, sounds good,” Donny replied, and nodded.
“And happy birthday, sweetie. Sorry the party got cut short,” Bella said, stepping forward to hug her.
“It was great. Seriously, thank you guys,” Donny said, and I could tell she wasn’t lying.
They chatted a little more about their plans, but I was too busy watching my beautiful blonde Witch to pay attention to their words.
When the others finally left, I touched her arm, biting back my groan at the tingles going through me.
“Come on, I’ll take you home,” I said softly, anticipation and hope welling inside me.
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
I squeezed her hand, grounding us both. Something deeper was brewing between us now.
She could feel it. I could feel it.
And through that whisper-thread of our bond, I felt her wondering what now?
At her door, I hovered behind her, drawn to the hum of her magic.
She was buzzing with emotion.
Gratitude, worry, exhaustion, affection—and something else.
Something that cracked open a space inside me that had been closed off for years.
I didn’t want to crowd her, but I couldn’t help nuzzling her neck.
“We’ll take it one step at a time, Honey. Together.”
She leaned into me like it was the most natural thing in the world.
And then we opened the door.
“Good Goddess!” I gasped.
Her familiar—Gryn the Domovyk from hell—was tearing through the place like a hopped-up Gremlin with a personal vendetta.
“YOU ARE DEAD, YOU SCRAWNY-BALLSACK-HAVING-MOTHERHUMPING-ASSWIPING-JACKOFF-OF-A-DOMODICK!” Donny shrieked.
Pink lightning flashed and zapped her square in the ass.
And since I had my arms wrapped around her, I got a good jolt too.
Singed me right through my jeans.
The little Hell spawn cackled and flung himself from chandelier to sofa, trashing the living room like it owed him money.
“Donny?” I said cautiously.
I could feel her magic boiling under her skin. Her rage pulsing through the bond.
She didn’t answer.
She couldn’t.
She was devastated.
It wasn’t just about the furniture, either. I felt it. Deep down.
She was unraveling inside.
So I did the only thing I could think of—I scooped her up in my arms and growled low at the furry little bastard.
“Gryn, I’ve spoken to Petyr,” I said. “I think I understand the problem—”
“So what if you understand, Yogi? It is the Vesterka who must know!” he spat.
I clenched my jaw and barely resisted the urge to shift.
Just for a second.
Just to scare him.
“My Bear can only take so much disrespect when it comes to my mate,” I said, letting the edge of fang show. “I’ll explain it to her. But you? You. Fix. This. Mess.”
“Deal,” the little shit said, sniffing.
Then he vanished into a glittery puff of smugness and aftershave.
I carried Donny upstairs, still cradling her like she was the most precious thing in the world.
Because she was.
I didn’t care how stubborn she was, or how hard she tried to hide her feelings.
I felt them.
Through our tiny bond.
Clear as day.
She was falling for me.
Fast.
And that was fine, because I’d already fallen for her.
Head over ass.
“Ready to talk, Honey?” I asked, nudging open the bedroom door.
Her answer knocked the wind out of me.
“Yes.”
Yes?
“Yes,” she repeated.
She wiggled her nose, waved her hand, then—oh, yes, yes, yes—she was naked.
Holy. Forking. Hell.
She stripped herself with a flick of her magic, hair tumbling around her shoulders in golden waves, curves glowing in the moonlight, and every inch of her screaming mine.
My Bear surged forward, nearly tearing free of my skin.
“Can I take your clothes off?” she whispered.
“As you wish,” I growled, before our mouths met.
It was hot.
Hungry.
Intoxicating.
She didn’t need to say it. I already knew.
But when she whispered again, “I’m saying yes. Yes, to everything, Ryan.”
I felt the final lock click open in my chest.
“I’m gonna make you the happiest Witch in Castor’s Corner, Donny Andrews,” I growled.”
“Good, because I’m gonna let you,” she replied with that sass I loved so much.
It hit me then.
I love her.
And it was time to show her.
Kissing Donny was like biting into my favorite pastry—unexpected, addictive, and the kind of indulgence that ruins you for anything else.
Sweet and spicy, bold and soft, magic and mayhem wrapped in a body that made my Bear roll over and show his belly.
She wasn’t just a woman. She was my woman. And tonight, after all the resisting, the hiding, the second guessing—she was finally mine.
I’d already carried her upstairs like a prize, though really, I was the one who’d won.
Gently, I laid her down on the bed—our bed now—and wasn’t that kismet? I knew it to the marrow of my bones.
Donatella Andrews was it for me. The beginning and the end.
She leaned back on her elbows, bare legs open and inviting, golden hair tousled from my touch, lips swollen from our kisses, and those wicked, clever eyes on me like she knew exactly what I was about to do to her. And hell yes, she did.
I knelt between her thighs, palms bracing on either side of her hips, not touching her yet.
Just looking. Memorizing. Revering.
My Bear rumbled low in my chest, urging me forward.
“This isn’t one night, Honey,” I told her, my voice thick with all the emotion I didn’t know how to name. “This is forever. Tell me you understand. Tell me you want it.”
She didn’t hesitate. Donny arched her back, pressing those full, perfect breasts into my hands, and I nearly lost it right there.
My mouth descended like a man starved. I licked a trail across the warm swell of her breasts, circling each nipple with slow, deliberate attention before drawing one between my lips.
Her whimpers undid me. Her thighs quivered against my ribs. I could feel the heat of her arousal soaking through her folds, scenting the air like magic and sex and everything holy.
“Tell me,” I growled again when she reached for my hand, trying to guide me lower.
I needed to hear it this time. No more dancing around what we were. I needed the words.
“This isn’t a one-night thing,” she said, breathless but certain. “This is the start of our forever, Ryan. I’m ready now. Ready for you to claim me, mate.”
Mate.
I reared back, needing to see her face as she said it.
Her lips curved into a smile, her fingers caressing my cheek.
“Fuck yes, I’m gonna claim you, Honey,” I growled, grabbing my cock and guiding the thick head to her slick entrance. “Mine.”
I pushed inside.
Inch by inch.
Tight, hot, perfect.
She gasped, her eyes wide as I filled her completely, and I knew right then I’d never get over this feeling. I didn’t want to.
“Oh Goddess, you’re so deep,” she whimpered, and my Bear preened like he’d just caught the biggest salmon in the stream.
I cradled her face and kissed her, soft and reverent, like the sacred act this was.
Our bodies rocked together in perfect rhythm.
Every moan, every movement felt like it had always been meant to happen.
But then she gripped my ass with both hands and gave it a firm, possessive slap.
“You don’t have to treat me like I’m glass, Bear Boy,” she growled. “I’m a Witch, and you can fuck me like I know you want to.”
Her magic zapped my ass for emphasis.
Holy hell.
I snarled and obeyed.
Thrust after thrust, I drove into her with the hunger I’d been holding back for far too long.
“Good mate,” I groaned. “So perfect. Made for me.”
My fangs extended, my Bear riding just under the surface as we climbed higher.
I could feel her magic wrapping around us, shimmering along my skin like stardust. I bent her knees, hit that deep spot inside her, and watched her come undone.
“Ryan! Please!” she cried out, her body clenching tight.
I flipped us, holding her above me, letting her ride.
Her nails scored my chest, and I bared my throat to her in offering.
She kissed me instead, but when she leaned her head back and exposed her own throat, I knew. It was time.
My fangs pierced her skin, right over the pulse that beat for me, and I sank into her in every way a Shifter could.
My mate.
She screamed my name, her orgasm hitting hard, magic crashing into mine.
It felt like lightning.
Like coming home.
Like the whole damn universe had been holding its breath, waiting for this moment.
We weren’t two people anymore.
We were one.
Marked. Mated. Bound.
The rest of the night blurred into a frenzy of pleasure and claiming, whispered I love yous, and sweet, aching touches.
I made her come until she couldn’t say my name anymore.
Until the sun began to rise and her head rested on my chest with a soft, sleepy sigh.
She was mine now.
And I was so fucking hers.
Forever.
Our bond ignited, sealing what fate had already written.
And when she curled against me afterwards, soft and sweet and sated, I heard her last thought before she drifted off.
I’m yours.
Yeah, Honey.
You’re mine, too.
And I was.
Forever.