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LANDON

L andon shut the cabin door with his elbow, his hands already tangled in the silk of Sonya’s dress.

Moonlight through the repaired windows glinted off the silver threads in her hair as she laughed, low and breathless, her teeth grazing his earlobe.

His newly redone cabin was now their home, but after the wedding ceremony, it seemed even more like a dream bringing his new wife into it.

“Missed the part where you carry me over the threshold,” she said, hips pressed flush against his.

Her fingers clawed gently at the nape of his neck, tugging him down.

“You’d just complain I’m blocking the view.” He nudged her backward until her shoulders met the wall, the ancient wood creaking as her dress hiked up his forearm.

The fabric tore a little at the seam—a sharp, satisfying sound.

She grinned, all wolf.

“That’s cheating.”

“You started it.” His palms skated up her thighs, warm through the thin cotton.

“Did not.” Her hands vanished under his shirt, nails scraping his ribs.

He hissed, jerking away just enough for her to twist free.

She darted toward the bedroom, ivory skirts swirling like a vanishing ghost.

He caught her at the foot of the bed, fingers grabbing onto her waist. They toppled sideways, her laugh cut short as his mouth found hers—slow this time, deliberate.

She stilled beneath him, the playful gleam in her eyes softening.

“Hey,” she whispered, thumb tracing the scar on his cheekbone.

He brushed a strand of hair from her face.

“You look… radiant. Annoyingly so.”

“Flattery won’t save you.” But her breath hitched as his lips trailed her collarbone, the straps of her dress slipping.

The zipper stuck halfway.

Landon growled, fumbling.

“Need help?” Her smirk was audible.

“It’s a tactical distraction.”

“Sure it is.” She rolled them over, straddling his hips.

The torn dress pooled around her waist as she yanked his shirt off, buttons pinging against the nightstand.

Her palms flattened over his chest. “Mine.”

He arched into her touch.

“Yours.”

Her fingers trembled—just once—before she leaned down, her mouth hovering above his.

“Say it again.”

“Always.”

Landon's breath caught as she shifted downward, golden hair trailing over his thighs like liquid sunlight. The sight of her mouth hovering just above him punched a groan from his chest—a ragged sound swallowed by the humid dark. Her tongue tasted him with languid, experimental sweeps that made his spine bow off the mattress, fingers twisting in satin sheets. "Fuck, look at you," he rasped, thumb brushing the molten flush spreading across her cheekbones. "Worshipping what's already yours."

Her answering hum vibrated through him as she took him deeper, one hand splayed possessively over his abdomen. The slide of her lips turned ruthless—savoring and devouring by turns until his hips jerked upward in warning.

She pulled back, blue eyes glinting with challenge as she straddled him, guiding him into silken heat that wrenched a curse from them both. The air smelled of salt and orange blossoms from her hair—a fragrance he'd memorized weeks ago that now coiled around him like a vow.

He mapped every twitch of her expression through hazy focus—fluttering lashes, parted lips mirroring the clench of her thighs around him. The bedframe shuddered with their rhythm, ancient wood groaning like a living thing beneath them. Her gasps tangled with his labored breaths, their synced pulse thrumming in the space between collarbones pressed sweat-slick together.

"Landon—" his name broke against his throat as she ground down, blunt nails scoring his chest in crescents that burned sweetly. He gripped her waist, captivated by the sweat-slick glide of skin on skin, the way moonlight caught the tremor in her lower lip when he snapped his hips upward.

"Fuck, you feel so good," she moaned, the words slurring as if drunk on him.

Landon drove himself deeper into her molten grip, fingers digging into the dimples above her ass to pull her flush against him. "Yeah?" he rasped, throat raw. "You like that?"

"Fuck yes ."

Her back arched as he kissed the hammering pulse at her neck, burying himself to the hilt in pulsating slickness. He felt her tighten around him—a vise of raw need—and bit back a roar.

"I want you."

"You have me," he growled into her damp skin, teeth grazing where her shoulder met throat.

"No." She seized his jaw, forcing his gaze to meet hers. Pupils swallowed her irises, fathomless pools reflecting his own desperation. "I want you to claim me. Mark me. Make me yours."

For a heartbeat, Landon froze. The memory flickered—Sonya weeks ago, telling him the history of shifters. "It’s irreversible," she’d murmured, voice tight. "A shifter’s bond. The world smells it on you. Smells who you are."

Now here she was—the woman who’d snarled at a pack elder for suggesting she needed an alpha—begging to be branded. His. The realization punched through him like buckshot, heat surging low in his gut. His cock twitched inside her, threatening to unravel everything.

"Are you sure?" he managed, voice cracking.

" Yes ," she pleaded, dragging his thumb to her mouth to bite down—sharp—as if sealing the promise.

Her moan crested into a scream when his claws erupted—sharpness biting into the softness below her ribcage. A primal growl tore loose as she retaliated, teeth sinking into the meat of his shoulder. The sting burned sweeter than any touch he'd known, her blood blooming metallic between their tongues as they crashed together. She arched, offering her throat to his snarling mouth, her pulse drumming against his lips in time with their ragged breaths. No mark would ever fade. No covenant could be deeper.

Landon's world fractured into white-hot shards as release tore through them both, muscles trembling with the strain of containing primal energy that threatened to rip their human forms apart.

Steam rose in ghostly tendrils where their skin met—a physical testament to the change they'd barely restrained. Every shudder of Sonya's body echoed through his own, her claws retracting millimeter by millimeter from where they'd buried themselves in his back like molten hooks.

When she collapsed against him, her sweat-slicked skin fused to his chest as if their bodies refused separation. He inhaled the copper tang of blood mingling with her wildflower scent, his arms locking around her ribs with feral possessiveness. Her heartbeat pounded against his sternum—a frantic rhythm slowly syncing with his own as their breathing staggered into unison.

Landon pressed his cheek to the crown of her head, tendons standing rigid along his neck. Mine. The word burned through him hotter than any shift, deeper than marrow. Her whimper vibrated against his throat as he tightened his embrace, teeth grazing the fresh scar she'd carved into his shoulder. No space. No air. Just this—limbs entangled, scars overlapping, two creatures refusing to remember where one body ended and the other began.

She traced the fresh marks on his skin, her head pillowed on his chest. “Think the pack heard us?”

“If we’re lucky,” he said, grinning at her snort.

Her fingers laced with his, calluses aligning. The candlelight flickered, casting their shadows as one against the wall.

Far off, a wolf howled. Sonya’s answering smile was all triumph.