I leap over fallen logs, weave between towering pines,splash through a shallow creek that runs silver under the moon. My heart pounds with exhilaration, every sense heightened. I can hear him behind me—paws hitting earth, branches rustling as he follows my trail.
Getting closer,I realize with a thrill of anticipation.
I dart left, hoping to throw him off, but he anticipates the move. His howl splits the night, closer than before, and I feel the first stirrings of something deeper than excitement.
Heat.
My wolf’s season, triggered by the chase, by the certainty of being caught by our mate. It starts as a warm glow in my belly, spreading outward until my skin feels electric.
I risk a glance back and see him—a magnificent wolf with dark copper fur and eyes like molten gold. He’s gained significant ground, maybe fifty yards behind me now. Close enough that I can see the determined set of his ears, the power of his movement.
Beautiful,my wolf sighs.Strong. Worthy.
I put on a burst of speed, but the heat is building now, making my legs weak and my thoughts fuzzy. The scent of my arousal mingles with the pine-sharp air, and his answering growl tells me he’s noticed.
The moonlit clearing appears ahead—a perfect circle of silver grass surrounded by ancient oaks. I know without looking that this is where I’ll be caught. Where the hunt will end and the claiming will begin.
I reach the center of the clearing and turn to face him, my sides heaving from the run. He emerges from the tree line like something out of legend—powerful, predatory, absolutely magnificent. For a moment, we simply stare at each other across the clearing, predator and prey locked in an eternal dance.
Then he moves.
He doesn’t rush—there’s no need now. His approach is deliberate, confident, the walk of a male who knows his prizeis won. I could run again, extend the chase, but the heat building in my core demands satisfaction.
When he’s close enough to touch, we both shift.
The transformation back to human form leaves me gasping, need flooding through me with overwhelming intensity. The heat—gods, the heat is like nothing I’ve ever experienced. It burns through my veins, sets every nerve ending on fire, demands immediate satisfaction.
“Kier,” I whimper, swaying on my feet. “I need?—”
“I know,” he growls, his hands framing my face. “I can smell it.” His pupils are blown wide, nostrils flaring as he breathes in my scent. “You’re burning for me.”
Before I can respond, he’s tackling me to the soft grass, his mouth crashing to mine in a kiss that’s pure claiming. I meet his hunger with my own, desperate and wanting, my nails raking down his back hard enough to draw blood.
“Mine,” he snarls against my throat, his teeth scraping the sensitive skin. “My mate. My female.”
“Yours,” I gasp, arching beneath him. “Always yours. Please, Kier, I need?—”
He doesn’t make me finish the plea. His hand slides between my thighs, finding me already wet and ready, swollen with need. The first touch of his fingers against my clit sends electricity racing through me.
“Fuck, you’re soaked,” he breathes, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves until I’m writhing beneath him. “All this for me?”
“Only you,” I pant, my hips bucking against his hand. “Only ever you.”
He slides two fingers inside me, and I cry out at the sensation. It’s good, but not enough—the heat demands more, needs to be filled completely.
“Please,” I beg, not caring how desperate I sound. “I need your cock. Need you inside me. Now.”
He positions himself at my entrance, the head of his cocksliding through my wetness. “Look at me,” he commands. “I want to see your face when I claim you.”
Our eyes lock as he pushes inside, stretching me, filling me completely. The sensation is incredible—not just the physical pleasure, but the emotional satisfaction of being joined to my mate under the eyes of the moon and pack.
“Perfect,” he groans, bottoming out inside me. “So fucking perfect. Made for me.”
He starts to move, and the heat explodes through me like wildfire. Every thrust drives me higher, each withdrawal leaves me aching for more. This isn’t gentle lovemaking—this is primal, desperate claiming.
“Harder,” I demand, my legs wrapping around his waist. “Please, I need?—”
He gives me what I need, driving into me with enough force to drive us both across the grass. I can feel his knot beginning to form, the thick swell at the base of his cock that will lock us together.
