I close my eyes, let myself imagine it. “A world where we don’t hide in the shadows anymore. Where humans don’t just fear us, but learn from us. Where our children don’t grow up behind iron gates, wondering if their claws make them monsters. Where packs and prides and herds can exist not in secret, but in plain sight. Not rulers. Not beasts. Just… here.”
He exhales, the sound heavy, rough. “Sounds like a dream.”
“It is,” I say, opening my eyes, turning to meet his. “But so was standing here with you. And here we are.”
His gaze softens, the fire in his eyes dimming to something gentler, though no less fierce. “You always did believe harder than me.”
“That’s because you carry doubt like armor,” I murmur. “And I carry faith like fire. Between the two of us, maybe we balance.”
He chuckles, low and raw, the sound breaking something in my chest. His forehead rests against mine, his breath mingling with mine. “Balance. Never thought I’d hear a wolf say that to a fox.”
“Never thought I’d mean it,” I whisper back.
For a long moment, we just breathe together, the night quiet around us, the weight of years lifting slow, the future not clear but possible.
Then his voice cuts the silence, low, serious. “Mary.”
“Yes?”
“Stay with me. Not just through this war. Not just until the world shifts. Stay. All the way.”
My breath catches, my wolf pressing hard against me, her growl not warning but fierce agreement. I place my hand over his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heart. “I already vowed that when I pulled you from your chains. You’re mine, Silas. And I’m yours.”
He closes his eyes, the tension bleeding from him like a wound finally healed. “Say it again.”
“You’re mine,” I whisper, fierce. “And I’m yours.”
His mouth finds mine then, slow at first, but deep, claiming, his fox pressing sharp against my wolf until sparks run through my skin. His hand cups the back of my neck, his other arm pulling me closer, his body trembling with the force of holding back and finally letting go. I melt into him, my hands tangled in his hair, the taste of him fire and blood and something new. Something that feels like forever.
When we part, breathless, his forehead still resting on mine, his voice comes rough, a vow carved from bone. “Then we’ll make it. A world for them. For us. Even if it kills me.”
I smile, fierce and soft all at once. “Not today.”
His laugh rumbles low in his chest, his lips brushing mine again. The snow falls around us, the altar hums faint beneath, and finally, I let myself believe in peace.
30
MARY
The cabin door shuts behind us, sealing out the cold and the war and everything that isn’t this. Snow falls heavy outside the single window, a silent white curtain against the dark. The only light comes from the low fire in the hearth, painting his skin in gold and shadow.
He turns to me, his hands coming up to frame my face, his thumbs stroking my cheeks. His breath ghosts over my lips. “Mary.”
I lean into his touch, my own hands sliding up his chest. “I’m here.”
He kisses me then, not with the frantic hunger of before, but with a deep, aching tenderness that unravels me. His mouth is soft, patient, tracing the shape of my lips until I open for him. Our tongues meet, a slow, languid dance that tastes of shared breath and a future we never dared name.
His fingers work the buttons of my shirt, one by one, his gaze locked on mine. The fabric falls open, and his palm slides over my breast, his calloused thumb brushing my nipple until it tightens into a hard peak. A soft sigh escapes me, my head fallingback as he lowers his mouth to my skin, his tongue tracing a hot, wet path down my throat.
He guides me backward until my knees hit the edge of the narrow bed. He lays me down, his body following, covering me without crushing me. His weight is a comfort, an anchor. He strips my clothes away with a reverence that makes my chest ache, his lips following the path of his hands, worshiping every inch of me he uncovers.
When I’m bare beneath him, he rises onto his knees, his own clothes falling away. The firelight plays over the hard lines of his body, the lean muscle of his abdomen, the fierce jut of his hip bones. His cock stands thick and ready, and my mouth waters with the need to taste him.
I reach for him, wrapping my fingers around his length. He groans, a raw, shattered sound, his hips pushing into my touch. “You’re so beautiful,” I whisper, stroking him slowly. “All of you.”
He shakes his head, his eyes dark with feeling. “It’s you. Always you.”
He lowers himself over me again, his mouth finding mine in a kiss that’s all heat and promise. His hand slides down my stomach, fingers slipping through my wetness, circling my clit with a pressure that makes me cry out against his lips.
