He ignores me. There is no stopping him from scenting his mate, from getting close, from experiencing what he’s been waiting so long for.
He lowers his head and goes to her.
I want to tell her not to worry. That I’m still with her. That he would never hurt her.
But when I see the look on her face, I know I don’t have to. She already knows. A mate knows.
“Hello,” she says, an emotional smile blooming on her face as her eyes flood with tears. She reaches out to him.
My wolf is grumbling possessively with his head hung low as he takes careful, tentative steps toward her.
She looks like a child’s doll compared to the size of my wolf, but she shows no fear. She does not step back.
I feel the shiver of bliss rippling through my wolf as our mate sinks her hands into the scruff of his neck, petting him as he moves in close.
He inhales deeply, filling his lungs with her intoxicating scent as she whispers soft things in his ear.
“Alaric told me all about you,” she whispers. “I’ve been excited to meet you.”
He grumbles and puts his wet nose on her neck, the spot where our mark will be, and she giggles in the most adorable way.
“I’m glad you’re back,” she whispers as she pets his large face, stroking his muzzle and under his chin. “And I’m not going anywhere, so don’t leave again, okay? You stay with Alaric. He needs you. And so do I.”
The two are fast friends. If I weren’t so damn happy, I’d be a little bit jealous.
A wolf howls from somewhere far off in the distance and my wolf turns his head, yearning to respond.
“Go,” Morwen says, stepping back with tears in her eyes. “Answer them. Tell them their king is back.”
My wolf licks her neck one last time, turns, and explodes forward, tearing across the rolling hills in a full-blown sprint.
I grin as I feel his heart pounding, his paws slamming into the ground, his power and exuberance radiating through us both.
It feels incredible. Surreal. Like a dream I don’t want to wake up from.
I feel born again. Alive.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever feel this again.
I thought this part of my life was over.
If I were in my human form, I’d be tearing up, but there are no tears in my wolf’s eyes. It’s just pure, focused purpose.
The hills blur as he tears across them, wild and free, the wind roaring past our ears, legs pumping as fast as he can move them. He crests one hill and then sprits up another, lungs burning in the best way, heart pounding with joy so fierce it feels like it might split me open.
He races to the top of the highest hill and stops at the peak, turning to look at his mate one last time before he throws his head back and lets out a long, deep, howl.
The sound tears out of us—loud, commanding, and full of authority. It rumbles into the night across the valleys, and rivers, and forests, and villages, and beyond.
It is a call. A statement. A flag planted in the ground.
An ancient and unmistakable announcement.
I am here.
I am whole.
I am your Wolf King.
