Chapter 32
Kade
Yes. Hers. Choosing me.
My hard-won moment of lucidity slips away. No thought. Only her. Only this. The scent of her, aroused and willing. The slick heat of her body gripping mine, clenching. Perfect. The sound of her cries—high, pleasure-soaked, needy. Mine.
More.
Her body, under mine. Made for me. Mine. She wants this. Bite me. Is the thought hers? Mine?
Doesn’t matter. Instinct burns away everything else.
My hips slam into her. Deeper. Harder. A rhythm commanded by blood, by soul. Her pleasure—a spike in the air, a scent I can taste. She is close. So close. Good.
Lycan magic bubbles in my blood. Hot and demanding. The bite. It will be perfect. I will make it perfect for her.
Her body convulses around me. She is coming. I did this. My mate is pleased with me. My cock pulses inside her wet heat as she comes on it. Fuck. Nothing better. Ever.
I yell my release into the air, emptying myself into her body, made just for me. Just as I was made for her.
At the zenith—energy, instinct—crashing down with the force of a collapsing star.
The bite. Now.
I plunge my teeth into the soft, flawless curve of her neck. Skin yields. Taste her. Metallic. Sweet. Explodes on my tongue. Mine. Mine forever.
The bond ignites, forged in blood and magic.
Take care of her. Until my last breath. Always.
Ascending into oblivion.
Love her, love her, love her.
Amidst the blinding pleasure—something else. Unexpected. Her power. Not fighting mine, but . . . weaving through it. Clarity. Pouring through the bond like liquid light.
Then the world is gone.
A sudden, sharp memory. Not mine?
Pain. Confusion. A door slams shut. Alone.
Shame, too much.
Don’t leave.
Then—me. Through her eyes. A huge . . . protector. Someone who always returns. Warmth. Safety. Desire. Home.
A recursive doubling. Feel her in me. Feel me in her. Her mind touching mine. Seeing.
Gray. A century of loneliness, the howling grief for a sister lost.
Isolation. Why survive?
Crushing guilt.
Then her. A shocking blast of color in a monochrome world. Mate.
Don’t deserve her. Can’t protect.
But she doesn’t recoil. Her magic touches my pain, my darkness. Compassion. Acceptance. Sees the wolf. Sees the protector. Understands.
And in that shared, breathtaking moment, two souls laid bare, her pain and mine, held in a cradle of fierce immutable love.
She is my everything. And I am hers.
The vision fades slowly, like waking from a dream. The bond settles—infused with not only shifter mating magic, but also Alanna’s power, her light and clarity. It is an everlasting golden thread connecting our souls.
I slump over her, boneless and spent, my forehead resting on the furs beside her head.
My breathing is unsteady, my muscles trembling with the aftershocks of release.
She gives a soft sigh that somehow resonates deep in my chest. Her eyes are closed, her face serene, flushed with pleasure and exertion.
The wild storm is gone, leaving behind a landscape of utter peace. She looks beautiful. Wrecked. Mine.
The mark on her neck is no longer bleeding.
The skin has already knit back together with supernatural speed, leaving behind a crescent-shaped scar that stands out against her flushed skin.
My bite. A permanent sign to the world that we belong to each other.
Instinct, gentler now but no less insistent, guides me.
I lower my head and run my tongue over the tender, healing skin, tasting her, soothing her, reaffirming my claim in this quiet, intimate way.
She makes a pleased sound in her throat, shifting slightly beneath me, unconsciously pressing herself closer.
I shift to my side and curl around her, tucking her in tight against my body. Then I simply breathe her in, savoring the peace, listening to the steady, syncing rhythm of our hearts.
After a long time, her voice comes, a wondering whisper. “Wow.”
A chuckle rumbles in my chest. I prop my head up on my hand so I can meet her gaze. Her eyes are open now, clear and luminous, filled with an awe that mirrors my own.
“Yeah. Wow.”
She traces the crescent mark on her neck, seeming amazed by how smooth it is, then reaches out to cup my jaw. “I saw . . . I felt . . .” She trails off, unable to put the immensity of the shared vision into words.
“I know, aine.” I cover her hand with mine, pressing her palm more firmly against my skin. “Me too.”
No more words are needed. We are forever bound together, two halves of a whole.
We simply stare at each other, the magnitude of it all crystallizing between us.
This is real. She is real. We are real.
I pull the furs around us and press a soft kiss to her temple, letting my lips linger against her skin.
“Sleep now, Librarian,” I whisper against her hair. She makes a sleepy noise of agreement, and her body begins to go slack in my arms. With her warmth against me, her scent filling my lungs, and the hum of the bond a constant, reassuring presence in my soul, I close my eyes.