Page 41 of Fetch Me A Mate (Shifter Mates of Hollow Oak #1)

DIANA

T he simple gold band on her finger felt more real than anything she had ever touched.

Diana sat with Rowan on the hearth rug, the warmth of the fire at her back and the solid weight of his shoulder against hers.

Outside, snow fell in a silent, peaceful curtain, cocooning the inn in a perfect quiet.

She had a home. She had a future. She had him.

He shifted, turning to face her fully. The firelight carved planes of light and shadow across his bruised, beautiful face, and the joy from the proposal in his pale eyes deepened into something older, more solemn.

“Marrying me is one thing,” he said, his voice a low, serious rumble. He took her hand, his thumb stroking the new ring. “There’s something more, for my kind. A bond. It’s permanent, Diana. Deeper than promises, deeper than law. It’s… a joining of souls.”

Her empathic gift felt the weight of his words, the profound gravity of what he was asking. This was the final piece, the true joining of their two worlds.

“I have to ask, not as a man, but as a wolf,” he continued, his gaze unwavering. “Will you choose that with me? Will you choose to be my mate, bound in the old ways?”

He wasn't ordering or demanding. He was asking, offering her the deepest part of himself with a vulnerability that made her heart ache with love for him. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his, a soft, sure kiss that was her answer before the words came.

She pulled back, a smile spreading across her face that felt like a sunrise after a long, dark night. “Yes,” she whispered. “I choose you. I choose the bond.”

A shudder of profound relief went through him, a wave of emotion so powerful she felt it as if it were her own. The air in the room thickened, charged with a quiet, ancient magic. This was not a moment of frantic passion, but a sacred rite.

Slowly, reverently, they undressed each other by the fire’s glow.

Every touch was deliberate, meaningful. He unbuttoned her dress, his knuckles grazing her skin, and she felt his adoration, a pure, clean flame.

She helped him out of his shirt, her fingers tracing the faded scars on his back, not with pity, but with a deep, accepting love for the warrior who had fought his way back to her.

When they were both naked on the soft rug, he laid her back gently, his body a warm, solid shadow over hers.

He worshiped her with his mouth and hands, not with the desperate hunger of before, but with the focused reverence of a man preparing a sacred altar.

He kissed the delicate, ritual mark on her hip, the faint scar from their first claiming, and she felt his vow to honor and protect that bond forever.

Her own hands explored him, learning the hard, beautiful landscape of his body. She could feel his wolf, no longer a restless beast pacing a cage, but a calm, steady presence, fully integrated with the man she loved, waiting patiently for her final acceptance.

He positioned himself between her thighs, the heat and hardness of him a promise against her soft, wet folds.

The firelight played over the powerful muscles of his shoulders and back, highlighting the faint, silvery scars that told the story of the life he’d fought through to get to her.

He braced himself on his hands, his silver eyes intense as they held hers.

“I will love you my whole life, Diana Merrick,” he vowed, his voice thick with an emotion so powerful it was a physical force in the room. Through her empathic gift, she didn’t just hear the words; she felt their absolute truth settle into her soul, a magical weight, a permanent anchor.

“And I will love you, Rowan Baneville,” she answered, her voice trembling as she met the force of his vow with her own.

He entered her with one slow, perfect glide, filling her completely.

The feeling was different this time, deeper and more profound than any physical joining they had shared before.

Her body welcomed him with an eager clench, but it was her soul that opened to him, a lifetime of carefully guarded walls dissolving into nothing.

As he began to move, a slow, deliberate rhythm of love, she felt something new ignite between them.

It was more than the building pleasure, more than the emotional feedback loop she was used to.

It was a visible thing in her mind’s eye, a thread of spun golden light, a tangible connection weaving itself from the core of his soul to the very center of hers.

“I can feel it,” she gasped, her hands gripping his powerful biceps as the sensation intensified. “Rowan, I can feel the bond forming.”

The golden thread pulsed in time with their movements, and with it came flashes of him, of his life.

She felt the bitter sting of a winter wind on his face during a long-ago patrol, the fierce, unconditional love for a pack that was his whole world, the sharp, metallic taste of betrayal, and the hollow ache of a profound loneliness he had carried for years.

It was overwhelming, beautiful, and terrifying all at once.

“Stay with me,” he urged, his forehead pressing to hers, their breaths mingling. His voice was a grounding anchor in the dizzying flood of sensation and memory. “Don’t be afraid.”

She wasn’t afraid. She was home. Trusting him, she let go, allowing their two essences to merge.

As they moved together, his history became hers, his pain became a memory she could soothe, and his deep well of loyalty and love became a foundation they now shared.

The pleasure built alongside it, a slow, rising tide that was intrinsically linked to the strengthening of the bond.

Each deep thrust of his hips didn’t just send waves of heat through her body; it felt like he was weaving that golden thread tighter, brighter, making it an unbreakable part of them.

As she felt her orgasm begin to crest, a blinding, soul-deep wave of connection and pleasure, his rhythm changed.

He moved with a sudden, purposeful grace, his wolf’s ancient instincts taking over.

He turned her slightly onto her side, his body a warm, solid wall against her back, his arm wrapped securely around her waist. He captured her mouth in a deep kiss, swallowing her gasp as he continued his deep, powerful thrusts from behind.

At the very peak of her release, as light and sensation exploded behind her eyes, she felt a sharp, stinging scratch on the soft flesh of her hip.

It wasn't a wound of aggression, but a precise, ritualistic line drawn by a single, extended claw, a mark of permanence.

The sting lasted only a second before it was flooded with a tingling, magical warmth that spread through her entire body, the final, undeniable click of the bond sealing itself, forever.

Then, he cried out her name, his own release taking him as her climax shattered over her.

In that moment of shared oblivion, with his seed still pulsing inside her, she acted.

She pulled his shoulder to her mouth and bit down, her teeth sinking into the hard muscle just enough to leave her own mark, to claim him as he had claimed her.

The bond surged.

It was not a spark, but a supernova of warmth, of peace, of knowing .

The last vestiges of separation between them dissolved.

She could feel his thoughts, his love, his soul as clearly as her own.

She felt his shock, his awe, and then a profound, bone-deep contentment that settled over them both. It was warm, and it was right.

He held her, his body wrapped around hers, their hearts beating in a new, shared rhythm. They didn't need to speak. She could feel his peace, and he could feel hers.

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