“Fuck,” I growl, my hands gripping her hips hard enough to bruise.
She settles her weight, adjusting until I’m buried impossibly deep. The sensation is maddening—I feel myself stretching her, feel her inner muscles clenching around me in perfect rhythm. But through our bond, I also experience what she feels—the delicious fullness, the slight burn of the stretch, the pressure against spots that make her breath catch.
When she begins to move, rolling her hips in slow, deliberate circles, I nearly lose my mind. My angel heritage amplifies everything, making the bond between us sing with divine resonance.
“You’re fucking perfect,” I rasp, mesmerized by the sight of her—fae royalty, choosing me. Her hair falls around us like a curtain of sunlight, her skin glowing with that subtle luminescence that intensifies with her pleasure.
She leans forward, shifting so her sensitive bundle of nerves rubs directly against my pelvis with each movement. The new angle drags me against her deepest spot while grinding her clit against my body—dual pressure that sends shockwaves through us both.
“I want to see you when you mark me, my love,” she whispers.
My wolf explodes forward so suddenly that I nearly shift right there. The animal inside me claws beneath my skin, demanding I complete the claiming—mark her, bite her, make her irrevocably mine. I grip her hips harder, barely maintaining control as my eyes blaze with amber fire. Each circle of her hips brings her closer to the edge, my restraint fraying thread by thread.
Her movements grow faster, more urgent. She senses my desperation, my wolf’s demand to mark her, and the knowledge only heightens her arousal.
She rises and falls above me, each movement more urgent, more demanding. Her eyes lock with mine, pupils blown wide with desire.
“Ath’liel vorn—“ The ancient Fae curse tears from her throat, guttural and desperate. “Take me, take me now!” Her voice breaks with need, all courtly composure shattered.
The command triggers something primal in me. My canines expand, lengthening as my wolf surges forward. My hands grip her hips, guiding her movements as she rides me harder, faster.Every muscle in my body tightens, coiling like a spring ready to snap.
The pleasure builds to an impossible peak, her wetness enveloping me as our bond amplifies every sensation beyond bearing.
My canines punch down, lengthening fully as my wolf surges to the surface. “Mine,” I growl, the word distorted around my fangs as my release begins.
I pull her down to me in one fluid motion. My teeth find the perfect spot where her neck meets her shoulder, just above her collarbone. As my orgasm tears through me—harder and more intense than I’ve ever experienced—my canines sink into her flesh.
The taste of her blood floods my mouth, copper and honey and wildflowers. The bond between us explodes with light, her pleasure and pain mingling with my own in an overwhelming symphony of sensation.
Her hand presses against my chest, directly over my heart. Heat spreads from her palm—not burning but transforming. Her fae magic flows into me as she reaches her own climax, her inner walls pulsing around my still-throbbing cock.
A golden handprint sears into my skin, not with pain but blinding pleasure. Her mark on me, as permanent as my bite on her.
My angel heritage responds instinctively; white light erupts from my skin, wrapping around her in protective wings of magic that aren’t quite corporeal but entirely real.
Her fae magic answers in kind, emerald tendrils intertwining with my white angel light, creating a cocoon around us both. Where our magics meet, they spark and dance, neither dominating, both enhancing.
“Holy fuck,” I gasp against her neck, licking the wound closed as our magics continue to merge around us.
“Holy fuck,” she echoes, breathlessly.
The sensation of being inside her while our magic and bodies merge completely overwhelms my senses. I can feel everything—her heart racing in time with mine, her breath catching in her throat, the way her muscles clench around me as aftershocks pulse through her.
Through it all, one truth blazes between us, bright as a supernova:
Mine. Hers. Ours.
I trail my fingers over her shoulder where my mark has claimed her, the raised edges silver from my angelic heritage. My wolf is sated and calm in a way I’ve never experienced—no more desperate clawing, no more pulling sensation.
“I can’t believe we made it,” I murmur, voice still rough from earlier. “There were moments I was certain we’d lose.”
Lyanna’s fingertips trace the golden handprint she’s seared into my chest. She tilts her head back to look at me, and the wonder in her forest-green eyes mirrors what I’m feeling. Contentment mixed with disbelief—we’re actually here, together, safe.
“I’ve been terrified of losing you since that first kiss,” she admits, her voice quiet in the darkness of our cabin. “Even before the summons. I kept waiting for someone to tear us apart.”
I pull her closer, breathing in the scent of wildflowers and honey that’s now permanently intertwined with my cedar and leather. There’s no more desperate ache, no more incomplete yearning.
“When they took you through that portal …” My jaw tightens at the memory. “I thought I was dying. Like being torn apart from the inside.”
