“The gods are only watching. This is all me.” He movesharder, faster, every thrust claiming me deeper, the coil inside me snapping tight, tighter. His hand slides between us, fingers circling, pushing me over the edge until I shatter in his arms with a cry. My body clamps down on him, milking him, pulling him deeper.
That’s when I feel it, his knot swelling, stretching, locking us together. I gasp, writhing as the glorious pressure blooms, his teeth sinking into my neck in a claiming bite that has me screaming again, pleasure so sharp it hurts.
“Mine,” he growls against my skin, teeth in my neck, knot anchoring him deep inside me. “Forever mine.”
“Yes. Yes, forever,” I moan. His finger still circling. I’m full from neck to groin of him touching every deepest, darkest piece of me.
We’re still moving, rocking against the Sacred Tree. Red leaves shaking above us. Caught between bliss and primal need until he finally roars, spilling himself inside me. His knot swells tighter, so tight it presses me impossibly fuller until I, too, am overwhelmed again. My release more powerful than the first. Thorn pumps me full, arms caging me against the bark, both of us trembling with release.
We’re stuck together, panting, shuddering, his forehead presses to mine when he retracts his teeth and kisses my neck until the bite heals. His breath fans across my lips as he whispers, softer this time, “Mate. My mate.”
My fingers swipe white hair behind his ear, his forehead is beading with sweat. I kiss his lips still red with my blood (and possibly others). “And you’re mine.”
He groans. The knot inside me trembles. I shiver. Gods, it sends a shot of pleasure through the center of me.
Footsteps, then voices, echo behind us growing closer, louder.
I jolt, panic flaring, but Thorn only smirks, stillburied inside me. Still locked tight. “Let them see my mate and me.” He kisses down my neck.
“Oh, gods.” I blush crimson. But a thrill runs through me at his words. The wolf inside me silently howls at the thought.
The first of the crowd breaks into the clearing, cheers rising. The priest clears his throat delicately, and then Cullen firmly guides Roman away, murmuring something about an interesting tree over on the other side.
My face burns, but Thorn doesn’t flinch, doesn’t pull away, holding me steady as the crowd grows, then his knot slowly begins to soften. Only when he finally slips free do my shaky legs threaten to give out. He grounds me, his hand on my hip, his bite mark raw on my neck, never to truly heal. Always to be a symbol of possession.
The reality hits me, I have finally mated.I’m mated.
I belong to Thorn now.
“So, what happens now?” I whisper, voice trembling. There’s been so much talk about mating and the trials, we’ve never talked about what happens after.
He presses his lips to my temple, his words a vow. “Grab your brother. We’re going home.”
“We?”
“We.” He nods. “I won’t be apart from you ever again. Your family is my family.”
Home. The words sink deep, warm, and terrifying all at once.
I have a family again.
We’re goinghome.
Chapter 49
THORN
The cheers still echo in my ears long after the circle clears. But when Ember trembles in my arms, her bite raw against her neck, my world shrinks to just her — sweat, blood, and the intoxicating scent of jasmine tangled with cedarwood. My mate.
Finally.
We stumble back to the castle where I guide her carefully down to the baths to get the blood and grime off of us. My fingers thread through her hair as I peel brambles and leaves from it. Ember releases a moan that has me hard in an instant. Before I know it, her hair is clenched in my fist as I enter her from behind. Bent over the edge of the bath, my teeth sinking into her skin as her moans echo against moist stone.
A little while later, we stroll back to my quarters, her legs weak, my own body still thrumming from the bond between us. The fire in the hearth glows low, shadows flicker across the walls. No longer do these walls reek of loneliness, no longer does my heart beat for just one.
She sinks onto the furs of the bed, her hair wild, lipsswollen from my kisses. Gods, I’ve dreamed of this for a year. I kneel before her, brushing damp strands from her temple.
“You’re real,” I rasp, voice raw. “Not a dream. Not a ghost. Mine.”
