“I don’t care. Do it.”
He bites down.
Pain explodes. Sharp and bright. His fangs break through skin. Deep. Drawing blood. The taste of me in his mouth.
Then magic floods in behind the pain. The bond that’s been forming snaps into place with enough power that I scream. Not pain—connection. The thread between us solidifying into unbreakable cord. Mate bond complete.
I feel him. Feel his dragon. Feel his emotions crashing into mine. His love. His fierce protectiveness. His absolute certainty that I’m his.
He releases my neck. Licks the wound. His saliva already healing it, but the mark will remain. Permanent. Visible. His claim on me.
“Now you,” he says. His voice is raw. Primal. Taut with need. “Mark me. Make me yours.”
My fangs lengthen. Wolf claiming instinct surging. I don’t hesitate. I pull him down and bite the same spot on him. Neck and shoulder junction.
His blood fills my mouth. Hot. Rich. Dragon blood tastes like smoke and fire and power. The bond magic surges again from the other direction. Completing the circle. Him to me. Me to him. Permanent. Unbreakable.
His hips jerk. His body stiffens. He thrusts in one final time and comes so deep inside me that I’m sure it floods everywhere. I feel him pulsing. Filling me. Claiming me in every way possible.
The sensation triggers another orgasm. Smaller. Softer. But exactly right. Our bodies climaxing as the bond settles into place.
When I release him, I lick the wound. Taste him. See the mark forming. My claim on him matching his on me.
We’re both marked now. Both claimed. The bond between us humming with power and certainty.
He’s still inside me. His huge body still covering me with his weight. But I love it. Love every inch of him.
Neither of us moves. Don’t want to separate yet.
He kisses me. Gentle now. Tender. I can taste my blood and his blood mixed in our mouths. The physical proof of what we’ve done.
Eventually, he shifts slightly. Takes some weight off me, but doesn’t pull out. Just adjusts so we’re more comfortable. I lock around him. Legs still hooked around his waist. Arms around his shoulders.
We’re slick with sweat and release and blood from the bites. The sheets beneath us are damp. My wolf is purring. His dragon is radiating contentment.
I rest my head against his shoulder. Near his mark. Breathe in his scent. The familiar hint of smoke I’ve grown to seek out.
His hand traces lazy patterns on my back. Down my spine. Over my hip. Soothing. Grounding.
I can feel his heartbeat through his chest. Strong. Steady. Matching rhythm with mine now that we’re irrevocably connected.
My fingers find his mark. Trace the shape of it. My bite. My claim. Proof that he belongs to me as much as I belong to him.
He shivers at the touch. “Sensitive.”
“Good.” I press a kiss there. Feel him respond. Feel the bond pulse warm between us.
Neither of us speaks. We don’t need words. The mate bond carries everything we need to say. The contentment. Thecertainty. The peace. The love. Even without words, I feel it surrounding me like a warm wave.
I think briefly of Chance. But the grief doesn’t come now. Just… acceptance. He was part of my past. Part of who I was. But Jericho is my future. My wolf chose him. And she chose well.
I breathe out slowly. Let the last of the tension leave my body. Sink deeper into Jericho’s embrace. Into this new reality where I’m not alone anymore.
His arms tighten around me. Protective even now. Even when there’s no threat. Just us and the quiet aftermath of claiming.
This is what I needed. What I’ve needed for five years without knowing it.
Not just a mate. But him. This specific dragon, who saw me on a mountain ridge and knew. Who fought his way through guilt and history and impossible odds to be here with me now.
