I came here to kill the Wolf King.
And now I’m riding him through a storm, lightning splitting the sky above us, thunder shaking the earth beneath our feet, my legs wrapped around his waist, my body pressed to his, my magic crackling between us like a live wire.
We’re not on a horse.
We’re not on a path.
We’re on the edge of war.
The fortress is behind us—its black towers swallowed by the storm, its torches drowned in rain, its laws shattered. The Council tried to lock me away. Tried to silence me. Tried to break the bond.
And Kael—my king, my mate, the man who took a blade, a poison, and ten years of my hatred for me—tore the prison apart with his bare hands.
He carried me out like I was sacred.
Like I was fire.
Like I was his.
And now—
We’re running.
Not because we’re afraid.
Not because we’re hiding.
Because we’re free.
The wind howls through the Highlands, slicing through my thin robes, soaking me to the skin. Rain pelts my face, stings my eyes, soaks my hair. But I don’t care. I press closer to him, my arms locked around his neck, my breath hot against his throat. He’s bare-chested beneath his coat, his skin burning with heat, his heartbeat steady, strong, alive. The mating mark on his chest pulses beneath my palm—golden, fierce, claimed. The bond hums between us, stronger than ever, a storm of magic and blood and truth.
He doesn’t speak.
Just runs.
Fast. Silent. Relentless.
His boots don’t touch the ground. His body moves like shadow, like wind, like something not quite human. He’s in half-shift—claws retracted, fangs just visible, gold eyes glowing in the dark. He’s not just a king.
He’s a predator.
And he’s protecting what’s his.
I press my forehead to his neck, my lips brushing his pulse. “You didn’t have to do that,” I whisper. “You could’ve stayed. You could’ve fought them legally. You could’ve—”
“No,” he growls, his voice rough, dangerous. “I could’ve let them keep you. I could’ve let them suppress the bond. I could’ve let them make you doubt me.”
My breath catches.
“And I would’ve burned the Iron Court to ash,” he says. “So yes. I had to do it.”
I don’t answer.
Just tighten my grip, my body arching into his, my core aching, needing. The bond pulses—sharp, insistent—a pulse that syncs with my pulse, with my breath, with my magic. It’s not just desire.
It’s hunger.
Not for him.
For us.
For the truth. For the war. For the future.
“They’ll come for us,” I say.
“Let them,” he says. “They’ll find us ready.”
Lightning splits the sky, illuminating the jagged peaks ahead—ancient, black, wreathed in storm. The borderlands. Neutral ground. No law. No pack. No Council.
Just us.
And the storm.
He slows as we reach the edge of a cliff—stone slick with rain, the wind howling through the ravine below. He sets me down gently, his hands lingering on my waist, his gold eyes burning. The rain soaks his hair, his coat, his skin. He doesn’t flinch. Just watches me—like I’m the only thing in the world.
“You’re shivering,” he says, brushing a strand of wet hair from my face.
“I’m not cold,” I say. “I’m alive.”
He smiles—slow, dark, utterly triumphant. Then he pulls me into his chest, his arms locking around me, his heat searing through the wet fabric. “You’re mine,” he murmurs. “And I’m yours. And no one—no one—takes what’s ours.”
My breath hitches.
Because I know—
This isn’t just love.
This is war.
And I’m ready to fight.
He pulls back just enough to look at me. Gold meets gold. His eyes burn with something I can’t name—pride, possession, wonder. “Say it again,” he says, voice rough. “Say you’re mine.”
“I’m yours,” I whisper, lifting my chin. “Only yours. Always yours. Not because of the bond. Not because of duty. But because I want to be.”
He doesn’t answer.
Just kisses me.
Not gentle.
Not sweet.
Violent.His mouth crashes into mine, his fangs scraping my lips, his tongue claiming me like he owns me. And I—
I kiss him back.
My hands fist in his coat, pulling him closer, my body arching into his, my core aching, needing. The bond flares—golden light erupting between us, the runes on our chests glowing, the air crackling with magic. Rain slices through the air, but it doesn’t touch us. The storm bends around us, the wind parting, the lightning circling.
Like nature itself bows to us.
He tears at my robes, the fabric ripping as his hands glide over my skin. I don’t stop him. Don’t care. Let him ruin it. Let him burn it. Let him take everything.
Because I’m his.
And I want him to know it.
His hands move to my breasts, cupping them, his thumbs brushing my nipples. I gasp, my back arching, my legs trembling. The heat between my thighs is unbearable. The bond pulses—sharp, insistent—a pulse that syncs with my pulse.
“Kael—” I gasp.
“Say it,” he growls. “Say you’re mine.”
“I’m yours,” I whisper. “Only yours. Always yours.”
He smiles—slow, dark, utterly triumphant. “Then let me in.”
He lifts me, his hands under my thighs, and carries me to the shelter of an overhang—stone carved by time, dry beneath the storm. He lays me down gently, then strips off his coat, his gloves, his shirt. His chest is a battlefield—scars from claws, burns from magic, the deep, jagged line across his shoulder blade. The runes tattooed there twist like serpents down his skin.
He climbs onto the rock, hovering over me. “This is your last chance,” he says. “Say no, and I’ll leave. Say yes—” He leans in, his breath hot against my ear. “—and I’ll make you forget your own name.”
I look up at him—gold eyes, sharp jaw, fangs just visible in the stormlight. The man who killed my mother. The monster who burned our temple. The king who took a blade, a poison, and ten years of my hatred for me.
And I realize—
I don’t want to win this war.
“Yes,” I whisper.
He doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. Just stares at me—like I’ve given him the world.
Then he kisses me.
Not violent.
Not desperate.
Gentle.
His lips press against mine—soft, slow, claiming. His hands glide over my skin, pushing the torn robes aside, baring me to the heat, to the light, to him. The bond flares—golden light erupting between us, the runes on our chests glowing, the air crackling with magic.
And for the first time, I don’t fight it.
Because part of me—small, broken, awake—doesn’t want to.
Because part of me—
Wants to belong.
His mouth moves down my neck, to my collarbone, to my breasts. He takes my nipple into his mouth, sucking, licking, nipping. I cry out, my back arching, my hands fisting in the stone. The heat between my thighs is unbearable. The bond pulses—stronger, deeper, hungrier.
“Kael—” I gasp. “Please—”
“Please what?” he murmurs, lifting his head. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want you inside me,” I whisper. “I want you to claim me. To make me yours.”
He smiles—slow, dark. “You’re already mine.”
But he doesn’t move.
Just watches me—gold eyes burning, possessive, knowing.
And then—
He moves lower.
His hands slide down my ribs, to my hips, to the apex of my thighs. He parts my folds, his fingers brushing my clit. I cry out, my back arching, my legs trembling.
“So wet,” he murmurs. “So ready. And you know what? So am I.”
He leans in, his breath hot against my core. “You don’t get to hide,” he growls. “You don’t get to run. You’re mine. And I’m going to taste you—right here, right now—whether you say it or not.”
And then—
He does.
His tongue slides through my folds, slow, deliberate, claiming. I cry out, my hands fisting in his hair, my legs trembling. He licks me—deep, slow, thorough—his tongue circling my clit, then dipping inside me. The bond flares—golden light erupting between us, the runes on my shoulder glowing, the air crackling with magic. Rain drips from the overhang, but it doesn’t touch us. The storm hums around us, the lightning circling, the thunder echoing like a drumbeat.
“Kael—” I gasp. “I’m—”
“Let go,” he murmurs, his mouth still on me. “Let me feel you come.”
And I do.
My body arches, my core clenches, and I come—hard, deep, uncontrollable. My scream echoes in the ravine, the bond surging, magic flaring, the runes on the stone glowing. He doesn’t stop. Just keeps licking, keeps claiming, keeps making me his.
When I finally collapse, gasping, trembling, he lifts his head, his lips glistening, his eyes burning.
“You’re beautiful when you come,” he says, voice rough. “And you’re just getting started.”
He moves up, hovering over me, his hardness pressing against my thigh. I reach for him, my fingers wrapping around his cock. He growls—low, rough—and thrusts into my hand.
“You want me?” he asks.
“Yes,” I whisper. “Now. Please.”
He doesn’t answer.
Just positions himself at my entrance, his tip brushing my folds. The bond flares—golden light erupting between us, the runes on our chests glowing, the air crackling with magic.
And then—
He pushes in.
Slow.
Deep.
Full.
I gasp, my back arching, my hands fisting in the stone. He’s thick. Long. perfect. He fills me completely, stretching me, claiming me, making me his in the most primal way.
“You feel that?” he growls, thrusting deeper. “That’s the bond. That’s us. That’s *forever*.”
I don’t answer.
Just wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, needing more.
He starts to move—slow at first, then faster, deeper, harder. Each thrust sends shockwaves through me, each pull making me ache for more. The bond flares—golden light erupting between us, the runes on our chests glowing, the air crackling with magic. The storm rages above us, lightning splitting the sky, thunder shaking the earth, but we’re untouched. We’re beyond it. We’re inside it.
“You’re mine,” he growls, his fangs grazing my neck. “Say it.”
“I’m yours,” I gasp. “Only yours. Always yours.”
He smiles—slow, dark. “And you’re never leaving me.”
“I don’t want to,” I whisper. “I don’t want to be anyone else.”
He doesn’t answer.
Just kisses me—deep, desperate, real—as he thrusts into me, harder, faster, deeper. The bond surges—stronger than ever, a flood of heat, of power, of *truth*. My magic flares—golden light erupting from my palms, my fae blood singing in my veins. The stone beneath us ignites. The air crackles. The storm bends to us.
And then—
I come.
Hard.
Deep.
Unstoppable.
My scream echoes in the ravine, my body arching, my core clenching around him. He follows—growling, thrusting, filling me with his seed. The bond flares—golden light erupting between us, the runes on our chests glowing, the air crackling with magic. Lightning strikes the cliff above us, splitting the stone, but we don’t move. We’re beyond pain. Beyond fear. Beyond doubt.
We’re one.
And then—
Silence.
Just our breath, ragged and heavy, our bodies tangled, our hearts beating in sync.
He pulls out slowly, then rolls to his side, pulling me into his chest. His arms lock around me, his heartbeat steady against my ear. I press my palm to the mating mark on his chest. It pulses—warm, alive, claimed.
“You’re mine,” he whispers, stroking my hair. “And I’m yours. And no one—no one—takes what’s ours.”
I don’t answer.
Just lean into him, my body trembling, my breath warm against his neck.
And I let myself believe—
Maybe I don’t have to win this war.
Maybe I don’t have to destroy him.
Maybe—
Maybe I can just *belong*.
The storm begins to pass.
The rain slows. The wind stills. The lightning fades.
And in the quiet, I hear it.
Hoofbeats.
Fast. Heavy. armed.
I lift my head.
Kael tenses, his fangs baring, his body coiling.
But I don’t fear.
Because I know—
This isn’t the end.
This is the beginning.
And I’m ready to ride into it.
With him.
At my side.
As his queen.
As his equal.
As his heart.
I came here to kill the Wolf King.
And now—
I think I love him.
And worse—
I don’t want to be anyone else.
Because I don’t want to be free.
Because I don’t want to be anything but his.