“Wyatt—”
“I’m here.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “I’ve got you.”
Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper. Her hands clutched his shoulders. Her eyes—dark and fierce and full of love—held his.
“Claim me.” The words came out rough, desperate. “Do it. Make me yours.”
His panther surged.
It had been waiting for this—pacing, hungry, ready. The beast that had recognized her as mate from the first moment, that had been fighting his control for years, finally given permission to do what it had always wanted.
Wyatt buried himself inside her one last time, felt her body clench around him, heard her cry out as pleasure crested. His teeth found her left shoulder. He bit down.
The taste of her blood flooded his mouth—copper and magic and something ineffably her. His panther roared in triumph, in possession, in bone-deep satisfaction. Twenty-three years of caging the beast, of denying it everything it wanted, and now?—
Now it had her. Now she was theirs. Now nothing could take her away.
Narla cried out—not in pain, though there must have been pain. In completion. In recognition. In the same overwhelming certainty that was crashing through him.
He held the bite for a long moment, letting the mark set, letting his magic seep into her skin. When he finally released her, when he lifted his head to look at her face, her expression made his chest crack open. Wonder. Joy. Love so fierce it burned.
FORTY
WYATT
The bond snapped into place like a circuit being completed. One moment, there was pleasure, just the aftermath of release, just their bodies tangled on the clifftop. The next moment—he knew where she was. Not through sight or sound or touch, but something lodged beneath instinct, absolute and certain. A fixed point inside his chest, anchored to her.
There was a sense of—rightness. Completeness. Like a piece of him that had been missing his whole life had finally clicked into place.
Mate. Bonded. Ours.
His panther’s satisfaction was absolute. Narla shuddered beneath him, her breath coming in gasps. Blood welled from the bite mark on her shoulder—a crescent pattern, his mark, permanent and undeniable.
“Narla.” His voice roughened, wrecked. “Are you?—”
“Yes.” She laughed—breathless, wondering. “God, yes. I can feel you. Not your thoughts, not your emotions, just—you. Where you are. Like you’re a star I can always navigate by.”
“The bond.” His lips found the mark, tasting copper and salt. “Compass-awareness. As if you’re the north I’ll always navigate by.”
“Is that what this is?” Her fingers traced his jaw, wonderingly. “I feel—whole. For the first time in years. Like something that was missing finally came home.”
He pressed his forehead to hers, neither of them speaking. There weren’t words for it—just the bond settling into place, the claiming mark cooling on her skin, and the absolute certainty that nothing would ever be the same.
Mate.
He had a mate. After a lifetime of solitude, he had a mate.
They lay wrappedin the blanket afterward, watching the stars come out. The ocean continued its endless rhythm below. The wind had died down, leaving the night still and cold, but he barely felt it. Her body was tucked against his side, her head on his chest, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his stomach.
The claiming mark on her shoulder had stopped bleeding. Already, he could see the edges starting to heal—not completely, never completely, but enough that the crescent shape was visible. His mark. His claim. Proof that she belonged to him.
“No regrets?” The question came out before he could stop it. She tilted her face up to look at him. In the starlight, her expression was soft, wondering.
“None.” She kissed his jaw. “You’re mine now, Sheriff. No take-backs.”
“I was yours the moment you walked into my station. Your magic knew before either of us did.” He caught her hand, lacedtheir fingers. “Maybe that’s what the surge has been doing all along. Pushing people toward the ones they were meant to find.”
“Maybe.” She settled back against his chest. “Or maybe we were always going to find each other. The surge just sped things up.”
