The moment it locks.
Not like chains.
Like threads.
Glowing, golden, weaving between us—heart to heart, breath to breath—wrapping tighter with every second until there’s no separating where I end and he begins.
A communion.
A joining.
Not just bodies—souls.
I drag my claws lightly over his shoulder, marking him, claiming him back, and he answers with a roar that shakes through both of us.
Not anger.
Not dominance.
Recognition.
Completion.
The matebond pulses.
Bright.
Alive.
And suddenly—I can feel him.
Not just his body.
Him. Tiger. Man.
His emotion—raw, fierce, overwhelming—crashes into me like a wave.
Relief.
Possession.
Love.
Gods—so much love.
It steals the air from my lungs.
Because it’s not just mine.
It’s his.
And it’s mine now too.
Shared.
Echoing.
Endless.
