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"Theo," I breathe, sitting up carefully and reaching for him. "I need you."

The simple words break whatever restraint he's been clinging to. In one fluid movement, he's beside me in the nest, his hands framing my face as he searches my expression for any sign of exhaustion or reluctance.

"Are you sure?" he asks, his voice rough with barely controlled want. "Belle, you've already been through two intense bondings. If you need time to recover..."

"I don't need time," I tell him firmly, pressing my palm against his chest where I can feel his heart hammering against his ribs. "Theo, I need you. Right now. I need to complete our pack bond."

He studies my face for a long moment, and the flush of arousal on my cheeks, the rapid pulse at my throat where Marcus and Felix's marks throb with pleasant ache, the need that's building in my scent despite the satisfaction of two recent bondings.

"You're sure you're ready for me?" he asks, his thumbs stroking across my cheekbones. "Belle, I've been holding back for hours. When I claim you, when I finally let go of this control, it's going to be intense."

"I'm counting on it," I tell him honestly. "Theo, I can feel Marcus and Felix in my mind now, and it's incredible. But it's not complete without you. I need your connection too. I need to understand what it feels like to be protected by someone who would go to war for me."

His eyes darken at my words, and I can smell the spike of possession and satisfaction in his scent. "I would," he says simply. "Go to war for you. Fight anyone who tried to hurt you. Die before I let anything happen to you."

"I know," I whisper, leaning into his touch. "I've known that since the night you found me in heat at the library. Since you sat with me for hours and proved that some alphas can be trusted completely."

"Belle..." His voice breaks slightly on my name, and I can see the emotion he's trying to hide.

"Show me," I request softly. "Show me what it means to be claimed by someone who would protect me with his life."

That's all the permission he needs. Theo's mouth crashes against mine in a kiss that's completely different from Marcus's passionate claiming or Felix's artistic worship. This is raw need mixed with desperate love, the kiss of a man who's been holding himself back for so long that he's forgotten how to be gentle.

But I don't want gentle. Not from Theo. I want his intensity, his barely controlled passion, his complete and utter devotion. I kiss him back with equal fervor, my hands fisting in his shirt as I pour all my own need and love into the connection.

His tongue slides against mine with desperate hunger, tasting and claiming, while his hands roam my body with increasing urgency. When he breaks away to trail hot kisses down my throat, carefully avoiding Marcus and Felix's fresh marks, I arch against him with a soft moan.

"Need this off," I gasp, tugging at his clothes. "Need to feel you."

He helps me strip away the barriers between us, his movements sharp and efficient, military precision meeting overwhelming need. When his shirt hits the floor, I run my hands over the expanse of his chest, marveling at the lean strength beneath my palms.

"You're perfect," I murmur, pressing my lips to the hollow of his throat, tasting salt and heat and something essentially Theo.

His response is a low growl that vibrates through his chest as he finishes removing the last of our clothes. Then we're skin to skin, the full length of his body pressed against mine, and the sensation is overwhelming. Theo is all lean muscle and controlled power, his skin warm and smooth under my exploring hands.

When I trace the line of a scar that disappears beneath his ribs, he shudders with want. "Military souvenir," he explains roughly. "Reminder of why I left that life behind."

"For this one," I observe, my fingers continuing their exploration, mapping every ridge of muscle, every sensitive spot that makes his breath catch. "For Marcus and Felix. For me."

"For you," he confirms, his hands beginning their own thorough mapping of my body. "Everything I've done for the past three years has been leading to you."

His touch is different from Marcus's possessive claiming or Felix's artistic worship. Theo touches me like he's memorizing a tactical map, learning every inch of terrain he'll need to navigate. But there's reverence in his touch too, the careful handling of something precious and irreplaceable.

When his mouth follows the path of his hands, when he presses hot, open-mouthed kisses to my collarbone, the sensitive skin just above my breast, the hollow between my ribs, I think I might spontaneously combust from the intensity of it.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs against my skin, his voice rough with want. "So perfect. I still can't believe you're going to be mine."

"I'm already yours," I tell him breathlessly, my hands tangling in his hair as he continues his thorough exploration. "I've been yours since that night in the library. I just didn't understand it yet."

His response is to intensify his attention, his mouth finding the sensitive spot just below my ear that makes me gasp and arch against him. "I've thought about this," he admits, his breath hot against my skin. "Every night since that first heat, I've imagined what it would be like to claim you properly. To make you mine in every way that matters."

"What did you imagine?" I ask breathlessly, my body responding to his touch with increasing urgency.

"Everything," he says simply, his mouth trailing lower, across my chest, down to the sensitive skin of my stomach. "I imaginedthe sounds you'd make, the way you'd feel around me, the taste of your skin when I mark you."

His words send liquid heat pooling low in my belly, and when his mouth continues its downward path, when he settles between my thighs with clear intent, I think I might die from anticipation.

"I imagined this," he murmurs, his breath warm against my most sensitive places. "Imagined tasting you, making you fall apart with my mouth before I claim you properly."