The parlor fell into silence.The wards trembled, bruised but holding.The air stank of scorched paper and charred silk, acrid enough to sting her throat.The client sat frozen in Ursula’s chair, wide-eyed, ink half-finished across his back.Saffron sagged against the counter, chest heaving.Her magic snapped back into her body, leaving her trembling from the recoil.
Isaac was on her instantly, his hands gripping her arms, his face carved with fear.“You could have been killed.”His voice was raw, breaking in the middle, as if he’d already imagined the sight of her falling and never rising again.
“I’m fine,” she whispered, though the crack in her voice betrayed her.Her gaze flicked to Nolan—his shoulders rising and falling with sharp, uneven breaths, his wolf pacing just under the surface.She could taste his fury and his fear like copper in the air.
Nolan’s growl was low, dangerous.“Don’t you ever do that again, kitten.Don’t you ever stand between us and danger like that.”
Her lips parted to argue, but the words dissolved under the weight of their anguish.The terror etched in both of their faces stopped her breath cold, and her cat curled inside her chest, keening at the thought of leaving them broken.
Nolan stepped closer, gripping her hand as though it anchored him.“Bind yourself to us,” he demanded hoarsely.“By the old ways.Handfast with us—today.”
Her heart stuttered, a thousand memories flashing—nights of blood and sacrifice, centuries lost, these two men finding her again against impossible odds.“You’re serious?”she whispered, though she already knew the answer.
“Deadly.”Isaac’s thumb brushed her cheek, trembling with the force of what he held inside.“We almost lost you.We don’t want to risk another day without you bonded to us in every possible way.”His voice cracked, softer now.“We need you tied to us, body and soul.”
Tears blurred her vision.The words rose in her throat, fierce and aching.“I already am, but, yes.Yes, I will.”She swallowed hard, finding her strength.“But not today.Not while the Council still hunts, not while shifters remain bound by curses.When this is done—when the Stone has ended the curse and our people are free, and we have ended these bastards for good—then we will handfast.And it will be a binding the world will never forget.”
Their breaths caught, a mix of protest and awe.Nolan’s eyes burned as he pulled her against him, his kiss a desperate brand.Isaac’s mouth followed a heartbeat later, claiming and reverent.The three of them tangled together, heat and love and raw survival colliding until she thought she might break apart.
The world blurred into hands and lips, whispered vows and fierce promises.Her back hit the counter, her body lifted easily into Nolan’s arms.
From the chair, the client blinked rapidly and swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand.A tear slipped free anyway.“Best damn tattoo parlor in the world,” he muttered thickly.“Sure, you’ve got to duck the fireworks and the flames flying out of people’s fingers, but, hell, worth it for the view.And the wings.”His gaze dropped to the ink across his back he could see in the mirrors set up around him and he choked on a laugh.“Yeah, definitely worth it.”
Ursula, without missing a beat, handed him a tissue.Her mouth curved into the faintest smirk.“Tell all your friends.”
“Council or not, curse or not,” Nolan rasped, eyes wild, “we’re not waiting another damn second to remind you you’re ours.”
They carried her toward the back, the scent of smoke and the echo of Adrian Veynar’s threat fading behind them.
****
Morning light filteredthrough the blinds of the tattoo parlor, warm and golden, spilling across the black leather chairs and the faint hum of Ursula’s machine.Nolan sat back, his left hand stretched out, while Ursula leaned close, needle buzzing steadily as she worked the design into his skin.The sting was sharp, grounding, a reminder that he was alive—that Saffron had survived—and that they had a future worth binding together.
Isaac sat in the chair beside him, his jaw tight, but his eyes soft as he watched the dark lines take shape.The Celtic knotwork Ursula had chosen wound together in intricate loops, endless and eternal, the mark of a man handfasted to the woman he loved.Their woman.
“You’re sure you want this?”Ursula asked, though her voice carried more ritual than doubt.She wasn’t just inking them—she was weaving protection into every line.“Once it’s done, it can’t be undone.”
“Good,” Nolan said, his voice steady.“We don’t want it undone.”
Isaac nodded.“This is for her.Always.”
Ursula smiled faintly, though her eyes carried a shadow.“If only I could find my future.I ink blessings into everyone else’s skin, but the Goddess hasn’t seen fit to give me mates yet.”
Saffron, leaning against the counter with her tea, spoke softly.“It will come, Ursula.Don’t lose faith.The Goddess works in her own time.”
Brielle snorted from her seat on the counter, swinging her legs.“Not me.I’m destined to be single forever.One asshole ex was enough to prove the point.”
Ursula shook her head, lips quirking.“You’re not destined to be single, Bri.You’re just destined to be stubborn.”
The room eased with laughter, the sound a balm after the chaos of the night before.
When Ursula finally set down her machine, Nolan flexed his hand, staring at the knotwork.It felt alive, humming with protective energy, as if the ink itself recognized the bond he and Isaac had claimed with Saffron.
Jacob cleared his throat from where he sat flipping through records at the desk.“Why is the Council so obsessed with this building anyway?I get it’s prime real estate, but they acted like it was more than that.”
Ursula came over to join Saffie at the counter, lowering her voice.The two women leaned over the papers Jacob had left open.“Its history isn’t that long,” Ursula murmured.“Records only go back about seventy years, when the building was first converted from a warehouse.Nothing to hint at why it matters so much.”
Saffie frowned, her tea cooling in her hands.“Which makes it worse.If the Council’s chasing a place with barely seventy years of written history, then the truth must be buried deeper than any record we’ve got.”
