I waited.
“I don’t know when it happened,” he continued, eyes never leaving mine. “Somewhere between protecting you and needing you safe… it became love.”
The word landed softly.
Totally, devastatingly real.
“I love you, Nora,” he said. “Not because you needed saving. Not because I chose you.”
“But because you choseyourself—and let me stand with you.”
My eyes burned. “Wolf…”
“I don’t say that lightly,” he added. “I don’t say things I can’t defend.”
I reached up, cupping his face gently. “I love you too.”
And that was it.
No fear.
No running.
He leaned down, resting his forehead against mine, breathing me in like the world had finally slowed.
“I’m here,” he murmured. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good,” I whispered. “Because neither am I.”
His kiss came slowly.
Warm.
Deep.
Unhurried.
Not the kiss of adrenaline—but ofhomecoming.
His hands traced my back as he pulled me closer, and I felt the strength in him soften into something reverent. When he kissed me again, it was deeper—more sure—desire threading through devotion.
I tugged his shirt free, fingers sliding over skin I knew now carried not just scars, but choice.
The bedroom door stayed locked.
The light dim.
The rest of the world was distant.
Wolf guided me back toward the bed, every movement unforced. He paused once, searching my face.
“Tell me if you want me to stop.”
“I won’t,” I whispered, pulling him with me. “I want you.”
His breath shuddered.
“Wolf” I didn’t know if I shouted his name or sighed it. His hands had moved between my thighs, and he was driving me out of my mind. He knew just where to touch, exactly how much pressure to exert. I writhed in his arms, pleading with him to come to me.
