ONE MONTH LATER: NOVEMBER
WESLEY
The buzzing of the tattoo gun filled my ears, and the minor ache, itch, and sting of the needles hitting my skin along with the silver hitting my blood, had me closing my eyes every few minutes. But the tingles of the mate bond from Haven’s hand held in mine comforted me and dulled most of the pain.
I looked over at her and found her watching the tattooist raptly, her eyes locked on my neck, where he was inking her “mark” on me for all to see.
I’d come up with the idea to get a tattoo as my mark when we were flying home from Greece. But I didn’t have the idea of what it should be specifically until we moved her out of her apartment and into our house in Crescent Lake, about a week after the challenge against Pierce. She was organizing the letters and making sure she had them all, and as soon as I saw them in her hands, I knew just what I wanted my mark from her to be.
Which is how I came to be sitting in the tattoo parlor the day of the new moon, getting “Dear Pen Pal” tattooed on my marking spot in Haven’s
handwriting.
Cheesy? Absolutely. But it was worth it to have Haven’s mark on me, to show everyone she had claimed me just as I had claimed her.
“How does it look?” Joe asked, pulling the gun away from my neck and letting Haven see the whole tattoo.
“Perfect,” she said with a smile, her eyes moving to mine.
We held each other’s gaze steadily while Joe cleaned up his supplies, tossing what he wouldn’t reuse and organizing everything else. But Haven held my undivided attention. Her smile, bright blue eyes, and the pure happiness that shone there all the time now, and her wild mane of red curls
—all of it captivated me more than anything else ever could or would.
“How much do we owe you?” she asked, reaching for her purse and tearing her eyes away from me.
Joe waved her off over his shoulder. “Nothing,” he insisted. “It’s not every day your future alpha asks you to tattoo a mating mark on him. Being the one to design it is payment enough, Luna Haven.”
I sighed and rolled my eyes as I stood from the chair, put my shirt on, and took Haven’s hand. “Thank you, Joe,” I told him.
“Anytime, Alpha Wesley,” he said with a wink.
I smiled and shook my head. Even though it was going to be my title soon, I still wasn’t used to it. But after the day I defeated Pierce, everyone in the pack started calling Haven and me “Luna” and “Alpha.”
My ceremony to take over was still unscheduled. But my dad had been dropping hints to me that it would be sooner rather than later now that I had found my mate and would mark her.
I wanted to wait. Not because I didn’t want to take over. I did. I just didn’t think I was ready. And I wanted to just enjoy being a newly mated male for
a while, if I was being honest.
I tossed a couple hundred dollars on the counter as we exited, even though Joe said we didn’t need to pay. I wasn’t about to walk away without compensating him. That wasn’t my style. Haven’s lips twitched, and she squeezed my hand as I did, and I pulled her under my arm as we walked through the small pack town towards our house.
Our house. I loved saying that, and I loved hearing her say that. Even my lycan perked up and wagged his tail every time she uttered the words “let’s go home,” or “our house” or “our room.” Knowing we had given that to her, given her a place she truly considered her home, was a feeling that was indescribable.
“How does it feel?” she asked, tilting her head up to look at me.
“The tattoo?” She nodded. “Fine. It should be healed already. We heal quickly,” I reminded her.
“I’ve noticed.” She chuckled. “You had a broken foot and ribs and a punctured lung one day, and by the next, you were—well, you were very active,” she reminded me, wiggling her eyebrows.
I threw my head back and laughed up at the orange and pink streaked sky, remembering that day vividly. I had made love to her in probably every room of our house that day. As soon as I’d gotten her through the door, my hands were on her, ripping her clothes off her. After the brutal fight with Pierce and my fear of losing her, I had needed to claim her over and over to remind myself that we hadn’t lost anything.
The memory of that day woke that fire in me again. Not that it took much, anyway. Not with Haven as my mate. And not with knowing what was coming next, what would happen when we were back in our home, in our room, and in our bed.
I held in a groan as I imagined yet again the way I planned to lay my claim on her tonight. Flashes of her body and predictions of the sounds she’d make for me played in my mind, and I picked up my pace, making my strides longer as we made our way home.
“Slow down, Wes!” Haven laughed, her legs working double time to keep up with me. “We have all night,” she said, stopping in her tracks and ducking out from under my arm.
“Exactly,” I growled, turning around and stalking towards her. I stopped with my chest just inches away from her and dipped my mouth down to her ear. “And I plan to make excellent use of every minute of it.”
Her eyes closed, and her body shivered. I ran my nose along the shell of her ear, inhaling her jasmine and plum scent and her lips parted as I placed a little kiss beside her ear.
I chuckled and smiled to myself as I scooped her up into my arms and ran the very short distance back to our house, and she squealed in surprise, her laughter trailing after us.
I entered the house and kicked the door shut behind me, then raced down the hall, where I placed her on her feet facing me, settling my hands on her hips.
I bent down to kiss her, but her hand came up and pressed against my lips, keeping me away from her.
“Shirt off. Now,” she ordered, her voice low.
I quirked my brow but didn’t question her. My luna gave me an order, and I would follow it.
I pulled my black T-shirt over my head, baring myself to her. Normally, she would rake her eyes down my entire chest and abdomen, devouring
every line of my muscles with her stare, but today, she kept her eyes locked on my neck. On her mark.
She stepped closer and reached up, tracing her handwriting with her fingertips. I gritted my teeth, and my cock twitched and hardened in my pants at her touch on my sensitive skin.
“It’s really healed already,” she muttered. “I told you it would be.”
“I know,” she replied. “Does your healing affect…” She paused and pulled her hand away from my neck. “Never mind,” she said, shaking her head and turning away.
I gripped her hips again, pulling her back into me and keeping her close. “Does it affect what?” I asked.
She licked her lips, her eyes darting around the room, looking at anything and everything before meeting mine again.
“Does it affect how you age? How long you live?” she whispered, a frown marring her forehead and dimming that ever-present light on her eyes I’d grown used to.
“Yes,” I admitted. “Werewolves and lycans usually live to be around 110 or 120 years old.”
Her face fell even more, her eyes dropping away from mine. But I grabbed her chin and lifted her gaze to mine, ready to put her worries to rest.
“But if a wolf has a human mate, when they give their mate their mark, they transfer some of that life expectancy to their mate,” I explained.
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, I give up some of my years so we can have more together. Meaning, you will live slightly longer than you would without my mark,
and I will live a slightly shorter lifespan than I would if you weren’t human.”
“You would give that up for me? Your long life?”
“Haven.” I sighed, sliding my hand along her jawline. “Haven, I would give up everything for you. My title, my pack—all of it is nothing without you here by my side. My life is meaningless without you in it.”
Her eyes lit with the same fire I’d felt in my veins when we walked home. She reached up onto her toes and kissed me hard, stoking that fire into a blaze.
“Mark me, Wesley,” she gasped, her breath warming my lips. “Make me yours.”
My fingers tangled into her hair, holding her in place as I returned her kiss. My tongue swiped against the seam of her lips, and her mouth opened with just that gentle prompting. Our tongues met, dancing and tangling as our bodies pressed together insistently.
She clutched at my shoulders, pulling herself closer to me. Her hips rolled against mine, and her body writhed, seeking more, seeking what we both desperately needed.
My arm wrapped around her waist, lifting her and walking her to the bed. Her legs wrapped around my waist, placing her core right on my dick. She rocked against it, moaning into my mouth as we continued our passionate kiss.
I dropped her on the bed, removing her hands from my shoulders so I could step backwards and undress the rest of the way. Our eyes drank each other in as we both undressed, racing to be the first one naked.
I won, of course, since I’d had a head start. And as soon as my cock came into view, her hands froze on the button of her jeans, and her heart stuttered
in her chest, her breath catching.
A flush spread from her cheeks down her neck to her chest, and her already hard nipples tightened further. The scent of her arousal filled the room, potent even through her jeans, and sent my lycan into a howling and rolling frenzy in my mind.
I groaned and fisted my dick, already painfully hard and ready for Haven. “You smell exquisite.” I sighed, lunging towards her.
My hands replaced hers on her pants, unbuttoning and unzipping them deftly, sliding them and her underwear down her hips and legs, discarding it all on the floor. I slid my hands up the insides of her legs; her smooth, pale skin pebbled under my touch, whimpers and mewls spilling from her lips the closer I came to her entrance.
I stopped at the top of her thighs, though, only inches from where she wanted me to touch her. She groaned, and her eyes squeezed shut, her hands clutching into the white duvet as her head tilted up. Her back arched, pushing her chest and hips forward as she sought my touch.
Her scars glittered in the dim starlight spilling in from the open curtains, a reminder to everyone who saw them how strong she was. A reminder of how she was a survivor, a fighter, and the luna we needed. The luna I needed.
And she was mine.
I let the pad of one thumb brush a featherlight touch over her lower lips, and as soon as I did, her hips bucked, seeking more. But my hands were already on her hips, turning her over, guiding her to her hands and knees.
Her back arched again, her responsive body presenting itself to me, offering itself to me to take. My lycan growled in approval, his primal need
and desire to claim and mark our mate pushing to the forefront of both of our minds.
I stroked up the backs of her legs to her butt, which I massaged and caressed as my lips traveled up one leg and then down the other, kissing and teasing and tasting but skipping her dripping pussy. She pushed back against me, those needy sounds again echoing around our room, her toes curling against the covers of our bed.
“Patience, Sugar Plum,” I breathed, my mouth hovering over her center. “Let me worship you.”
“Wesley…” She sighed as my mouth finally gave her what she wanted.
I kissed her, delicate and sweet, taking my time instead of being greedy. I would claim her like a wolf, taking her from behind, but I would still claim her lovingly and with care, the way she deserved. I would savor the moment, savor the night I made her mine.
Her hips moved, and I let her guide my kisses and tongue, let her show me where she needed my touches. This night was about her, about her pleasure, about showing her exactly what she meant to me.
Her scent, her movements, and her sounds drove me to the edge, but I held back, held myself off from reaching down and touching myself as I pleasured her. I would come with her, finish with her as my teeth sank into her neck and I gave her my mark.
“I’m ready, Wesley,” she cried.
“I know,” I whispered. “I am too. I’ve been ready since the day I saw you at the lake, staring up at the moon.”
My lips moved up her back, kissing along her spine as I wrapped my arm around her, sliding it up to palm her breast. My body covered hers, my hand next to hers on the bed, and my penis lining itself up at her entrance. I blew
on her neck, and her body arched and pushed against mine, a long moan filling the room.
“Please. Please make me yours.” She gasped.
I smiled against her skin and slid inside her, letting her feel each inch of me as I entered.
Her head fell back, her curls spilling like a wild red waterfall to the side of our bodies. “Oh…” she sighed.
I held her close, keeping my chest pressed to her back as she rocked against me, and I moved in and out of her.
As I made love to her, I thought back to all the moments we’d shared. I remembered her hugging me at Jack and Shirley’s and how she’d pulled away sooner than I’d wanted. I remembered her opening up to me at the park, trusting me, and telling me about her so-called parents. The night I took her to dinner and kissed her outside her apartment, the night I cooked her dinner, and the night I realized she was my mate—all of it played in my mind, reminding me of our story, of how much we’d shared in such a short span of time.
And then my mind flashed forward, flashed to the future. To that same image I’d once had of a little girl with red curls and blue eyes chasing me on the shore of the lake. Of what our future together could be. Would be.
I kissed her neck, finding where I would mark her—opposite of her scars like we’d agreed. It didn’t matter to me if my mark was mixed with her scars. But she wanted it on display by itself, in its own special place, and I would give her what she wanted.
Her breaths came faster, and her heart pounded. Her little noises of pleasure grew louder, and she moved against me harder while I kissed and
licked her neck, preparing the smooth, supple skin for my teeth. She teetered on the edge, her lips mouthing my name soundlessly.
My canines descended, and my hand squeezed her breast and tugged at her hardened nipple. My teeth grazed against her skin, and she cried out, falling over that cliff of pleasure.
As her walls pulsed around me, I sank my teeth into her neck, making her cry again and shake with the intensity of her orgasm. I groaned as her warm blood filled my mouth, the taste as sweet as her scent.
The tingles under my skin from her touch exploded in a cacophony of fireworks, intensified by the bond completing between us. All of it combined created the most divine pleasure I’d ever experienced. I followed her over the edge, growling out my orgasm against her neck. My teeth sunk in further to make sure my mark took, that I embedded my scent and my claim not just into her skin, but into her soul.
As my teeth retracted and our bodies slowed their movements from the aftershocks of our ecstasy, I licked over my mark, sealing it so it would heal. I wrapped myself around Haven, her body curling into mine as we collapsed onto the bed, clutching and clinging to each other, still seeking the touch and pleasure from our mate bond.
Everything else fell away—the room, the stars, the sounds of the forest and the lake—and all that was left was Haven and me, and our love.
