“I think I’ve felt it too,” I breathe.
Rowen relaxes. “I’m not rushing anything, okay? I know a claiming bite is a big deal. I just needed you to know.”
I pull his hand to my lips and kiss his knuckles. I’m not scared of his bite at all. I already know I want it.
I’m just scared of everything else—my bloodline, my future,ourfuture, tangled in a war that could destroy us both. I’m wearing a mark that could literally get Rowen killed if Rip finds me.
And I’m only human. A half-blood. What good will I be when it comes time to defend my mate? It feels cruel, almost, that fate would pair him with someone like me.
So no. As much as I want it, Rowen needs to wait to claim me, to seal what fate’s already written—at least until this is over and he’s sure he still wants me.
Because if the voices come back, if I start breaking apart the way my mom did, Rowen might wish fate had chosen anyone else.
26
TOBIAS
The following morning, I wake before Rowen does. The light hits his shoulder in a way that makes me itch for my camera. I want to capture the way the thin band of gold stretches across his back. He’s so damn beautiful.
My body aches in that lazy, satisfied way that comes after too little sleep and too much sex. We’d woken in the middle of the night for another round. Rowen hadn’t knotted that time, but the feeling was just as incredible. Just as right.
And just as dangerous. How can this last? I’m only going to end up hurting him when the madness catches up with me.
Rowen’s words drift back through the haze, soft as a whisper through film grain.
We’re fated, Toby.
That word—fated—fizzes through me like carbonated air. It’s so unreal, so beautiful, but also terrifying. Fate doesn’t promise forever; it just binds you tighter while you fall.
I curl into him, pressing my forehead against his shoulder to chase the warmth.
He stirs against me, his breath rough in my hair. “Mmm. Morning.”
“Hey.” My voice is rough from sleep and lack of sustenance. I haven’t eaten since yesterday’s breakfast.
A sharpthud-thud-thudrattles the door, making us both jump.
“Downstairs in five!” Grant shouts. “Pack meeting!”
Rowen groans, stretching out.
I can’t help but laugh. “So much for lazy mornings, huh?”
He mutters something I can’t hear before kissing my forehead.
Slowly and with great effort, we drag ourselves out of bed, fumbling for some clothes. Every muscle protests the workout he put me through, but I don’t mind. The ache is proof it wasn’t just a dream.
While I tug on my shirt, Rowen steps in close and pinches my chin, kissing me softly. “You okay?”
I’m not sure which part he means—physically, emotionally, cosmically—but the answer’s the same. Fate can ruin me later, but right now, I’m choosing him.
“Yeah. I am.”
His immediate smile tugs at my heart. He kisses me one more time before reaching for the door. “Come on.”
The kitchen smells of coffee and toast and too many bodies packed in one space. The entire pack gathers around the table, with Forest and Grant at opposite ends. Grant looks like he’s been awake for a few hours, despite having gotten home just as late as Rowen.
Then again, he still probably got more sleep than Rowen did.
