I collapse onto my forearms, careful not to crush her. My face is buried in her neck, my breath coming in ragged gasps. I can feel her heartbeat against my chest, fast and wild, gradually settling. Her hands come up to rest on my back, her fingers tracing the scratches she left, gentle now, almost apologetic.
I lift my head and look at her. Her face is flushed, her lips kiss-swollen, her eyes still wet. She looks ruined in the best possible way.
And something shifts inside me.
It’s not just the post-orgasm haze. It’s not just the knot still binding us together. It’s something deeper, something that settles into my bones like it’s always been there, waiting. My Alpha brain isn’t just purring in satisfaction—it’s roaring.
Mine. This woman is mine. My mate. Protect her. Love her. Keep her safe.
I’ve had sex with countless women over the years. Quick encounters in Council quarters, names I barely remembered by morning, bodies that meant nothing beyond the physical release. This isn’t that.
I press my mouth to her forehead, then her cheek, then the corner of her lips. She turns her head and catches my lips in a kiss that’s soft and unhurried, her tongue sliding against mine. I kiss her back, drinking her in, and my hand comes up to cup her face, my thumb stroking her cheekbone.
I pull back just enough to watch her—watch the way her eyelashes flutter when I trail my lips down to her jaw. Watch the way her breath catches when I shift and the knot tugs inside her. Watch the way she looks at me… like I’mherman.
“I didn’t plan this,” I say against her mouth. “Coming here. Staying. Any of it.”
“I know,” she whispers.
“The Council?—”
“Shh.” She presses a finger to my lips. “Not now. Just… stay. Stay like this.”
So I do. I stay locked inside her, my knot keeping us joined, and I kiss her, then I suck a mark into the curve of her neck where her shoulder meets her throat. She tilts her head to give me better access, and something about that—about her offering, her trust—makes my chest ache.
The rain keeps falling outside. The storm keeps raging. But in here, in this small house, in this woman’s arms, everything is still.
I don’t know what happens tomorrow. I don’t know what my report will say, or what the Council will do when they realize I’m not giving them the narrative they want. I don’t know how I’m going to walk away from her, if I even can.
But right now, she’s in my arms, and she’s mine.
And that’s enough.
Circle of Oath:
Step inside with joined hands. Speak truth aloud.
The wipers are losing their battle. I presses my palms harder against my knees, pushing against the wards, and outside the windshield, the rain eases just enough that I can make out the road ahead.
Barely.
The houses blur past, dark shapes hunkered down against the storm. Every few seconds, lightning tears across the sky, illuminating the flooded streets in harsh, white flashes.
“Doing okay?” Damon asks.
I nod and then quickly change my mind. “Can I ask you something?”
He swallows. “Is it about Caroline?”
“Yes.”
His hands grip the steering wheel a little more tightly. “I care about her.”
“I saw how you looked at her. How you touched her face. That wasn’t just being a concerned sheriff.”
Damon doesn’t answer right away. When I glance over at him, his expression is distant, almost trance-like.
“I like her,” he says. Simple. Honest. “I’ve had a little crush on her for a while. But it’s gotten a lot more complicated since.”
