Page 17

Hudson’s smiling even though he is radiating tension and protectiveness like a banked fire wrapped in skin. He doesn’t say a word—just puts a hand on the small of my back and guides me out of the room.

We don’t stop until we’re outside, where the mountain air cuts sharp through the silence. The sun is much higher in the sky than I thought it would be, brushing everything in gold.

I exhale. “So… that was fun.”

He doesn’t smile. “They crossed a line.”

“You think?”

He runs a hand through his hair. “I walked in and saw you handling it. Holding your own. I didn’t want to step on that—not when you were already burning the room down. But if I’d gotten there a minute earlier, I might’ve ripped Eddard’s throat out on principle.”

I cross my arms. “And instead, I felt like I was standing trial for existing.”

Hudson steps closer. “You held your ground.”

“Damn right I did.”

There’s a beat. Then he says, “Come for a run with me.”

I blink. “What?”

“Run with me. Shift. Clear your head.”

I hesitate. We’ve never run together before, not like this. But the offer is sincere. And something inside me is aching—tight and restless, like my wolf wants out.

So I nod.

We head to the changing lodge tucked behind the compound—an old cedar-sided cabin built for moments like this. No one says a word as we step inside and undress in separate curtained corners, the space filled with the scent of pine, aged wood, and anticipation.

I fold my clothes carefully, feeling the hum of my wolf just beneath the surface, already itching to run. When I step outside, he’s already there.

Hudson’s wolf is massive. Dark. Powerful.

His paws crunch softly over fallen leaves, each step deliberate, weighty.

The scent of pine and damp earth clings to him, threaded with something uniquely his—warm musk and wild energy, grounding and magnetic all at once.

He stands at the tree line, golden light catching in his coat, eyes locked on me.

I nod once, letting the shift come—and everything changes.

We run.

We chase nothing and everything. The wind.

The silence. The hunger between us. Our wolves streak through the underbrush like shadows made of muscle and intent, slipping between trees, kicking up pine needles and frost. I leap over a moss-slicked boulder and land beside him, our flanks brushing. He growls, playful but edged.

Our wolves brush and circle, not just playful—testing. The snaps of our jaws are near-silent flirtations. He darts left, and I follow, nipping his flank before veering off in a taunting curve. He catches up, pacing me stride for stride. It’s not just movement. It’s communication. Challenge. Trust.

His coat brushes mine again, this time staying close.

I feel his energy ripple through my skin, an unspoken question in the cadence of his steps.

And I match it, letting my wolf lean into his orbit, giving him my answer.

We run not as two creatures, but one rhythm—wild, primal, bonded even before the bite.

At some point, we slow. Our bodies stay close.

We shift back at the base of an old ridge, breath hitching as bones morph and fur recedes.

It’s always a shock, that return to skin and silence.

Our bodies steam in the cool air, slick with sweat and mist. A wooden bench sits under a nearby pine—one of the supply spots the pack keeps stocked.

A folded blanket. A clean set of clothes. Thoughtful… or maybe planned.

I grab the blanket and drape it around my shoulders, tossing Hudson a towel from the stash. He doesn’t take his eyes off me, not once. He’s still on one knee, breathing like a man who's run too far and found something worth collapsing for.

The woods are thick with shadows now, and he’s looking at me like I’m the only thing keeping him tethered.

My breath hitches. “What happens now?”

Hudson steps in, slowly, deliberately. His voice is rough. “Now I give you one last chance to walk away.”

I tilt my chin up. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Something clicks into place as I say it—not defiance, not pride.

Just clarity. I’ve spent so long bracing for fallout, expecting abandonment.

But right now, with his eyes locked on mine and every muscle in my body humming like it’s waiting for a storm, I know exactly what I want. And I’m done pretending otherwise.

The moment snaps.

His mouth crushes against mine—hot, hungry, unrelenting. I meet him with teeth and tongue, pulling him closer, clawing at his back as he presses me into the earth. Every inch of him is all muscle and command.

My teeth brush against his lower lip; my breath fans sharp against his skin.

“Show me this is more than a primal urge,” I murmur.

“If we cross this line, there’s no undoing it. To claim and mark you as my mate is to change everything.”

“I know,” I whisper.

A predatory grin spreads across his face, baring teeth in a slow, fierce arc, as if something ancient stirs just beneath his skin.

Our bodies collide, the heat between us erupting into raw, urgent need.

A gnawing, unquenchable hunger fuels every touch and kiss.

Any coverings we have fly off in a frenzy, discarded like leaves ripped from branches in a gale.

With a low growl, Hudson spins me around and presses me back onto the bench, the wood cool beneath my spine.

His palms grip my thighs as he spreads me open beneath him, his body towering, taut with barely restrained need.

I reach for him, breath catching, and he comes down over me—mouth claiming mine, weight pressing me into the grain of the wood until I feel like a part of it.

One hand braces beside my head, the other sliding under my knee to hitch my leg around his waist. I arch up, hungry for the heat of him, my body already slick and aching. And then I ride his hardness, a low moan vibrating through my core as our rhythm ignites into something primal and consuming.

His hands clamp around my thighs with fierce authority, guiding me up against him, his dominance making my breath hitch. I ache for that raw edge, that wild intensity.

“Still want proof?” he growls, voice rough as gravel.

“I want you,” I gasp, words soaked in longing.

He fills me in one powerful thrust and I cry out, fingers digging into his shoulders, nails scoring soft crescents into his flesh—secret marks of our union.

Our rhythm builds into a storm: each thrust branding me deeper, each movement a silent vow echoing through my bones.

Sweat slicks our skin as we move in savage harmony, driven by pure, primeval urgency.

He trails kisses up my throat, across my collarbone, over my breasts, teeth skimming that delicious line between pleasure and pain. I clamp my jaws around his neck and he growls—a deep, rumbling purr vibrating in my chest.

“Mine,” he declares, voice unyielding.

“Prove it,” I challenge, fierce.

As I shatter into my climax, Hudson sinks his fangs into the curve of my neck, a savage bite that seals us together.

His scent mingles with mine, an indelible mark of our bond.

I cry out, my muscles clamping around him, a wave of white-hot sensation tearing through me until the world narrows to our fierce connection.

The air around us hums with something wild—this is more than pleasure; it’s transformation.

Pleasure and pain crash through me in a single, shattering wave.

I arch beneath him, my wolf howling in triumph, the bond flaring to life between us—bright, primal, permanent .

His scent floods my senses. My blood sings.

My body answers without hesitation, legs locking around his hips as I pull him deeper.

It’s not gentle. It’s not slow.

I shriek, every muscle clamping around him as ecstasy detonates inside me—nerves aflame, senses roiled by a white-hot tide.

My vision blurs; each ragged breath feels stolen as the world narrows to our union.

The air hums, electric and dense, alive with something primal.

This is more than pleasure—it’s transformation, a crackling surge that leaves me clinging for fear of drifting away.

My legs give way, and I fold against him—trembling, frayed at the edges of feeling.

My head lolls to one side as the last echoes of euphoria dissolve into a warm, foggy haze.

Hudson catches me effortlessly, one arm securing my back, the other beneath my thighs, lifting me close.

Skin gleams with sweat; a shallow gasp escapes me as mind and body fall out of sync.

I murmur a few inaudible words, then stillness claims me—breath slowing, form slack.

Not broken, not beaten—simply undone. Wholly, irrevocably his.

He holds me like a treasure, jaw set, pulse drumming beneath my ear.

I slip into the darkness in his arms, utterly claimed, forever changed.

It’s everything we’ve been holding back.

He marks me again with his mouth everywhere—my collarbone, my ribs, the dip of my waist. Worship and possession tangled in every stroke. My name comes out of his mouth like a prayer and a promise all at once.

And when we finally still, tangled in each other beneath the stars, the silence isn’t empty.

Somewhere in the woods behind us, a howl splits the night.