“Look at me.” His voice was barely recognizable. “Look at me, Ember.”
Her eyes opened, grey meeting gold. In their depths, he saw everything—love and trust and absolute certainty. She had chosen him. She would always choose him.
“Mark me.” The words were barely audible, but he heard them clearly. “Where everyone can see.”
His heart stopped. “You’re sure?”
“I want the world to know.” Her hand came up to cup his face, tender even in the midst of their passion. “I want them to see that I belong to you. That you belong to me.”
His beast roared in triumph.
He felt the moment building—the crest of the wave that would sweep them both away—and just as she shattered beneath him, he buried his face in the curve of her neck and bit.
Her cry of release mingled with a sharp gasp of pain that softened immediately into pleasure. The sweet metallic taste of her blood on his tongue bound her to him in the most primal way possible. His own release crashed through him, obliterating thought and reason, leaving nothing but sensation and the absolute certainty that she was his.
Forever.
They stayed locked togetherfor a long time, her back against the oak tree, his body still pressed to hers. His tongue lapped gently at the mark on her neck, cleaning the wound, ensuring it would heal cleanly, leaving a permanent testament to their bond.
“That was…” Her voice was dreamy, satisfied. “We should go on more runs.”
He laughed—a low rumble that vibrated through both of them. “You’re going to be the death of me, female.”
“But what a way to go.”
He shifted back carefully, reluctantly separating their bodies as his knot subsided. The partial shift had receded completely now, leaving him in human form once more. She looked thoroughly debauched—dress rumpled, hair tangled with leaves, the imprint of his teeth vivid against her pale skin.
She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
“Can you walk?”
She tested her legs experimentally, then winced. “Probably not gracefully.”
Without a word, he swept her up into his arms. She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck, settling against his chest with a contented sigh.
“I could get used to this.”
“Don’t.” He began walking back towards the mansion, carrying her as easily as he would a child. “Next time, you’re running farther before I catch you.”
“Is that a challenge?”
“Let’s just say that the further you run, the better the reward.”
The forest gave way to manicured gardens, then to the broad terrace at the mansion’s rear. Tomas appeared briefly in a window, took one look at them, and tactfully withdrew. He carried her through the quiet hallways, up a sweeping staircase, to a suite of rooms that smelled of lavender and fresh linen.
The bathroom was as quietly luxurious as everything else on the estate with a deep tub, a heated stone floor, and windows that overlooked the forest they’d just emerged from. He set her on her feet long enough to fill the bath with steaming water, adding oils from an array of bottles until the room was heavy with fragrant steam.
Then he undressed her slowly, carefully, cataloging every mark and bruise with fingers that still trembled slightly from the intensity of what they’d shared.
“In.” He guided her into the water, watching her sink beneath the surface with a groan of pleasure. “Let me take care of you.”
She tilted her head back as he knelt beside the tub, letting him wash the leaves and dirt from her hair with gentle hands. The mark on her neck stood out starkly against her pale skin.
“Does it hurt?” he asked quietly.
“Yes.” Her smile was slow and satisfied. “In the best possible way.”
He finished washing her hair, then moved to her shoulders, her arms, her back. Every touch was tender now, a counterpoint to the fierce claiming in the forest. She was precious to him—had been from the first moment she smiled at him—and he would never stop showing her that truth.
