I try to tell myself to go slow, but Tessa is unbuttoning her jeans, shimmying out of them, and then she's naked beneath me, all soft skin and inviting heat, and slow becomes impossible.
"You feel it too," I whisper, watching her eyes glaze, the bond shimmering between us like a living thing. "The pull. The need to be closer. Deeper."
"I feel… everything," she admits as I strip off the rest of my clothes, settling between her thighs. "Your pleasure. Your fear. Your love. It's all mine. Just like I'm yours."
I slide into her in one smooth thrust, and we both cry out—her from the fullness, me from the perfection of it, the rightness. The bond snaps tighter, golden threads weaving through us, connecting soul to soul. I can feel what she feels—the stretch, the burn, the overwhelming sensation of being claimed even as I'm the one doing the claiming.
"Archer," she gasps, her nails raking down my back, her hips rising to meet mine. "More. Give me everything."
I set a rhythm that's deep and relentless, each thrust driving us both higher. The bed creaks, the headboard knocking against the wall, but I don't care about the noise, don't care about anything but the woman beneath me and the bond blazing between us.
"I want to feel you come apart. Let me feel what I do to you."
Her hand slides between us, her fingers finding her clit, circling in time with my strokes. The sensation echoes through the bond, doubling back on itself—her pleasure becoming mine becoming hers—until we're caught in a feedback loop of sensation that threatens to consume us both.
"I can feel you," she breathes, wonder in her voice. "Inside me. Around me. Everywhere."
"That's the bond," I groan, thrusting harder, losing control. "We were officially one after I took you the first time, Tessa. Body and soul. Now, each time we’re together that bond will only deepen and intensify. Tell me you're with me. Tell me you're mine."
"Yours," she cries out, her body tightening around me, her orgasm building, cresting. "Always yours, Archer. Always?—"
She comes apart beneath me, her release rippling through her body, through the bond, crashing into me like a wave. I feel every pulse, every spasm, and it triggers my own climax. I bury myself deep and let go, spilling into her with a shout that sounds more tiger than man, marking her from the inside, completing the bond all over again.
The aftershocks last forever—small tremors of pleasure rocking through us both, the bond humming with satisfaction and love and something deeper now. Permanent. Unbreakable.
I collapse beside her, pulling her against my chest, our legs tangled, our hearts slowing together. Her fingers trace lazy patterns over my skin, and I feel her contentment through the bond—complete, total, absolute.
"I love you," she murmurs, her voice drowsy.
I kiss her forehead, her temple, the mark on her neck that I left days ago and renewed tonight. "I love you too. More than my own life. More than anything."
We drift together, the bond wrapping around us like a blanket, and I let myself believe this might work. That we might actually have a future.
Hours later, I wake to darkness and the distant howl of my patrol. Tessa sleeps curled against me, her breathing even, her hand resting over my heart. I stare at the ceiling, feeling the bond pulse between us, strong and unbreakable.
The rogues came for her today. They'll come again. They know what she is to me now—my mate, my heart, my only vulnerability.
I won't wait for them to strike again.
I kiss Tessa's forehead gently, careful not to wake her, and slip from the bed. At the window, I stare out at the forest, at the territory I protect, at the threats gathering beyond the tree line.
Tomorrow, I end this. Not by hiding, not by running, but by hunting. I'll tear through every rogue stronghold, every shadow den, until none remain who would dare threaten what's mine.
Tessa chose me. Chose this life. Chose the danger. Now I choose to make sure she never regrets it.
I return to the bed, sliding back under the covers, pulling her warm body against mine. She murmurs my name in her sleep, and the bond flares with affection, with trust.
"I'll keep you safe," I whisper into her hair. "I swear it. Whatever it takes."
Sleep takes me slowly, but my resolve remains ironclad. The hunt begins at dawn.
29
TESSA
Morning comes too fast after a night like that. I don’t sleep well. That’s the simplest way to put it. Not because I’m scared of the dark, given the circumstances, or even the rogues specifically—but because my brain refuses to stop replaying the same sequence on loop.
Footsteps. Door locks. The moment outside the café when everything tightened like a net being pulled shut. And then Archer. Always Archer. Standing in the doorway like he was built out of instinct and fury and something I still don’t fully understand.
