“Fuck,” I mutter, slapping the screen blindly.
I grab it off the nightstand and squint at the notification through sleep-blurred eyes.
“Preacher and Esmerelda are inbound,” I read aloud.
Of course they are.
Megan stirs beside me, blinking up with those sleepy, stormy eyes.Her hair is a delicious mess.Her lips still pink from my kisses.Her skin kissed with the heat of what we did—what we are now.
“Now?”she murmurs, voice rough and low.
“Yeah,” I sigh, dragging a hand down my face.“We’ve got to meet them at the station.”
She frowns.It’s adorable.I want to bite her again.
Hard.
“What?Why?Can’t they just come here?”
I glance around the bedroom.
Twisted sheets.Scattered clothes.My belt half-draped over her boots.Her bra on the lampshade like a damn victory flag.
And the scent.
God, the scent.
Her slick still coats my skin.Her heat clings to the walls.The whole fucking room smells like sex and claiming and mine.
I shake my head.
“Because,” I grunt, already pulling on my jeans.
She raises a brow.“Because?You think that’s a good enough answer?”
“I mean it,” I say, running my hands through my hair, trying to get my shit together, but it’s no use.I’m a fucking goner.“Look, I don’t want to scare you, but you know what we did, right?”
She props herself up on one elbow, sheet slipping down her bare shoulder.
“Yeah,” she says slowly.“We had sex.”
“No,” I say, meeting her gaze.“We hadclaiming sex.I bit you.You let me.That’s—that means something.It’s binding.”
My heart slams in my chest.My Wolf paces, ears flattened.
Because what if she didn’t know?
What if I moved too fast?
What if she regrets it already?
Then she says, “I know.”
She says it like it’s simple.
“I told you, you’re the one, Owen.All that talk of fated mates and the way we’ve been drawn to each other from that first minute, well, it feels like this—you and me are meant to be, and I don’t know how I know it, but I do.”
My breath catches.
