Page 71 of Broken

He pressed one hand to the base of her spine, curving her back so he could go deeper still, touch all of her.

He felt the tension as she reached the utter edge, and then shattered around him, murmuring his name over and over. Cole. He was finally himself again, after all these years, here in her arms.

One last thrust, and he was there with her, exploding with sensation, as if their bodies had turned to pure pulsing energy. His head was buried in the crook of her shoulder, and he bit the tender skin, the big muscle at the base of her neck, deep and hard, claiming her back.

Blue light shone through the night. They were one.

A long time later, they were sitting wrapped up together in the blanket, wolfing down the sandwiches some kind person had packed in the duffel. Cole finished his last bite and balled up the sandwich wrappings, then kissed Ireland on her bare shoulder.

“We should probably go back to the cabin,” he said. “At some point.”

“Mmm,” she said. “Meat really is good, you know?”

“Yeah. You’re a creature of the Dark now.”

“And proud of it.” She kissed his shoulder this time. “I brought clothes. I think. So we can walk down.”

“Yeah. I just hope all my friends aren’t standing around waiting to pounce on us and talk about our feelings.”

“Like a walk of anti-shame?” He laughed. She said, “You could always call Boomer on your dog tags.” She flicked one of them. “And tell them all to go the fuck away. Plus, you could put his mind at ease. That you’re okay.”

“He knows.” But he picked up one of the tags and pressed a tiny button along its edge. “Boomer. Hey. It’s all good—we’re on our way back down. But can you get everyone out of the way? Because if there’s a bunch of people keeping me from getting to the cabin and boinking my mate again, it’s going to end with me punching someone.”

She could hear Boomer’s big “Woo-hoo!” on the other end, and then “Affirmative, Bro. Boomer out.”

They dressed, and walked hand in hand down the mountain path, not hurrying. By the time they got to the compound, it was nearly deserted, the few people they could see in the distance pointedly ignoring them.

As soon as they were on the cabin porch, Cole swept Ireland up and carried her inside, straight to the bedroom, pausing only long enough to close the front door.

They ravished each other all over again, slowly this time, reveling in the taste and feel of each other until they lay, exhausted and exhilarated, in each other’s arms.

After Ireland fell asleep, Cole lay awake thinking.

About how everything had changed.

And about what he had to do next.

Then he got quietly out of bed, tucking the covers around Ireland, and went out into the living room.

He sat on the couch, breathing slowly and deeply, like he’d been taught to do in Special Ops to keep himself calm before a mission.

Then he cleared his mind, focused on the bracelet, and called out Riker.

Moments later, they were floating in that dim nothingness, Riker looking just the same. But Cole was totally different.

“What the hell did you do?” Riker said. “The bracelets just got, like, twice as powerful.”

Well, that was the answer to question number one. And two. The mate bond did enhance the power of the bracelets, and Riker couldn’t see what he and Ireland did in private. Thank the gods.

“Ireland and I bonded for real. We’re mates. In case you don’t know anything about shifters, that’s magic. Apparently, connecting our wolf sides adds to her power. Probably the reason they didn’t want her fucking around with other shifters—literally or figuratively.”

Riker frowned, thinking about that. “Well, hell,” he said slowly. “So maybe putting that bracelet on you wasn’t the stupid, sentimental move it seemed like.”

“Maybe,” Cole said. “But maybe it gives you less of a chance to take over the bond and use it to do what you want.”

Riker didn’t say anything.

“That was the point, wasn’t it,” Cole said. “It’s why you still want her to go on this mission to find that sorceress, even though you’re dead. So you can get your revenge on me. If it all goes right, you can free her, free yourself—or your spirit, anyway—and get me killed.”