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I turn my head, baring my throat.

“Yes.”

The word is barely out before his control snaps in a different way. His wolf canines sink into me. Pain flashes hot and bright. Pleasure follows so fast it steals the breath from my lungs.

The bond detonates.

Not a thread now. Not a hum. A wildfire.

Nash. Me. Wolf. Woman. Alpha. Strategist. The city below us. The fight behind us. The future waiting with all its sharp teeth and impossible promises.

I feel him.

All of him.

And somehow, impossibly, I am still myself.

More myself.

I cry out, his name breaking in my throat as the claim locks into place.

He holds me through it, shaking, his mouth still pressed to the mark he made. Then he pulls back and looks at me with blood on his lips and absolute wonder in his eyes.

My wolf answers by pushing forward, fierce and satisfied.

I cup his face.

Then I bare my teeth.

His eyes flare.

“My turn,” I whisper.

He goes utterly still.

Then he tilts his head.

Offering.

Trusting.

Mine, the bond says.

Ours, I correct.

And bite.

He groans my name, a sound so raw it breaks something open inside me all over again. The taste of him hits my tongue, salt and skin and wolf and Nash, and the bond surges once more, sealing from both sides.

When I pull back, we’re both breathing hard. He’s still inside me. Still holding me. Still looking at me like I am the only thing in the world that has ever made sense.

I rest my forehead against his.

“I’m still going to argue with you constantly,” I whisper.

His laugh is rough and beautiful. “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

The bond warms.