“I am here.”
“Closer.”
She stepped into him until there was nothing between them but silk and wool and the heat they generated together. Her hands found his chest, her fingers splaying over his heart like she was claiming territory.
“The integration is going well,” she said conversationally, even as her hands began working the buttons of his shirt. “Forrest says most of Birch’s former wolves are adapting without issue.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Rune’s focus had narrowed to the way her fingers moved against his skin, efficient and possessive. “A few holdouts, but nothing we can’t handle.”
“And the council approved the new patrol protocols?”
“Electra.” His hands caught hers, stilling them against his chest. “Are we really discussing pack logistics right now?”
Her smile was pure mischief. “Just making sure my Alpha’s mind is properly focused on the important things.”
“The only important thing right now is you.”
He meant it with every fiber of his being. Tyr and Birch were dead. The threats that had haunted their first weeks togetherhad been eliminated with brutal efficiency. The pack was unified under his leadership, stronger than it had been in decades. Peace, won through violence, was still peace—and it was his responsibility to protect it.
But more than that, Electra had stood in the chaos and chosen him anyway. Had watched him kill without hesitation, had seen the monster required to protect what he loved, and hadn’t flinched. That choice echoed louder in his mind than any oath he’d ever sworn.
Rune guided her toward the bedroom, his movements unhurried but purposeful. This wasn’t about urgency. This was about celebration. About grounding.
“You were magnificent tonight,” he said as they crossed the threshold.
“I had a good teacher.”
“No.” He turned her to face him, his hands framing her face with reverent care. “That was all you. Your strength. Your grace. Your choice to stand with me.”
The emerald gown whispered against his fingers as he found the zipper, drawing it down with the same deliberate care he’d shown hours earlier. But this time, there was no ceremony to prepare for, no pack to impress. This time, it was just them.
The silk pooled at her feet, leaving her in nothing but her raw beauty that made his wolf growl with appreciation. She was radiant like this—not just beautiful, but powerful.
“Your turn,” she said, her hands already working his shirt from his shoulders.
He let her undress him, let her strip away the formal armor he’d worn for the pack. The expensive fabric joined her gown on the floor, leaving them bare together in the quiet sanctuary of their bedroom.
“Shower?” he suggested, nodding toward the bathroom.
“I thought you would never ask.”
The steam soon rose around them like a protective cocoon, the hot water washing away the last traces of ceremony and politics and public performance. Rune took his time with her, his hands gentle and attentive, memorizing her again—not as someone he’d had to save, but as someone who was safe. Someone who was completely his.
She returned the care with equal tenderness, her fingers tracing scars he never talked about, wounds that leadership had carved into him long before tonight. In this small, enclosed space, the world narrowed until there was only warmth and breath and the steady reassurance of their bond.
It was there, with water sliding over their skin and nothing left to hide, that Rune finally gave voice to what had been shaping every choice he’d made since the moment he’d scented her on that mountain road.
“Electra, I love you,” he said, the words simple and absolute.
Saying it didn’t weaken him the way he’d once feared. It anchored him.
“I love you too,” she whispered back, and something deep and restless inside his chest finally settled into perfect stillness.
Rune’s hands slid from her waist to her hips, then firmed as he lifted her against the steamy tiles. Electra’s arms looped around his neck, her legs locking around his waist with a naturalness that sent a possessive thrill straight through him. Her back met the cool ceramic, a contrast to the heat of her skin and the humid air.
He kissed her then, a deep, unhurried claiming. Her right hand slid from his shoulder, down the ridged muscle of his abdomen, until her fingers wrapped around his hard cock. The contact was electric. She guided him to her entrance, already slick and welcoming, and Rune’s control melted away under the warm sensation.
He entered her slowly, a deliberate, stretching that made them both gasp. This wasn’t the frantic claiming of their first time, or the reverent completion of the bond. This was different. This was peace earned. His wolf, usually a restless presence under his skin, settled into a contented rumble.
