Page 19

LYRA

T he cellar felt different when they descended the stairs together—not the chaotic maelstrom of uncontrolled magic that had characterized Lyra's previous visits, but something calmer and more purposeful.

The founder's rune still glowed with blue-white light, its surface spider-webbed with cracks that leaked ancient power, but the frantic energy that had been building toward catastrophic failure had settled into something more manageable.

"It's responding to us," Lyra said, still holding Cade's hand as they approached the stone. "The bond—it's stabilizing everything."

"For now," Cade agreed, though his expression remained tense. "But we need to do more than just stabilize it. We need to repair the damage."

The inn groaned around them as another tremor shook the foundation, reminding them both that time was running short. Above their heads, the supernatural storm continued to rage, though its fury had diminished since they'd joined their magic together.

"How do we repair something this old?" Lyra asked, kneeling beside the rune. "I barely understand how it works, let alone how to fix it."

"The same way the founders did originally," Cade said, settling beside her. "With intention, sacrifice, and absolute trust in each other."

His words carried weight that went beyond the immediate crisis, and Lyra found herself studying his profile in the rune's ethereal glow. "You mean the bond. The complete bond."

"I mean choosing each other," Cade said, turning to meet her eyes. "Not because magic is forcing us to, not because the town needs us to, but because we want to. Because what we have is worth fighting for."

The distinction mattered in ways Lyra was only beginning to understand.

Everything that had happened between them so far had been colored by external pressures—magical compulsions, supernatural necessity, the weight of responsibilities neither of them had asked for.

But this moment, here in the cellar with the storm raging above and the ancient seal failing beneath, felt like the first time they were truly choosing each other freely.

"The founders' bond wasn't just about power," Lyra said, understanding beginning to dawn. "It was about trust. About being willing to share everything—magic, emotion, even vulnerability."

"Especially vulnerability," Cade agreed. "Magical bonds require truth, Lyra. Complete honesty about who we are and what we want."

"And what do you want?"

Cade's green eyes had gone dark with intensity, and when he spoke, his voice carried the rough edge which was a sign his wolf lurked close very close to the surface.

"I want you. Not just for tonight, not just until this crisis passes, but for as long as you'll have me.

I want to build something real with you, something that exists because we choose it to exist."

The words hit Lyra in the heart, body and soul, sending warmth spiraling through her chest and making her magic sing in harmony with his wolf's energy. "Even knowing what it means? What we'll have to share?"

"Especially knowing what it means." Cade reached up to cup her face in his hands, his thumbs tracing the line of her cheekbones with careful precision.

"I've spent years convinced I was better off alone, that caring about someone meant giving them the power to destroy me.

But you've already destroyed me, Lyra. You've taken apart everything I thought I knew about myself and put it back together in ways that make me stronger. "

"Cade," she breathed, leaning into his touch.

"I love your chaos," he continued, his voice dropping to the intimate rumble that made her bones melt.

"I love your stubbornness and your courage and the way you threaten people with butter knives when you're scared.

I love that you stayed in this town even when everything about it should have sent you running.

And I love that you're willing to sacrifice yourself to protect people you've known for less than two weeks. "

Tears pricked Lyra's eyes at the conviction in his voice.

"I love you too. I love your grumpiness and your overprotectiveness and the way you carry everyone else's welfare on your shoulders like it's your personal responsibility.

I love that you see something in me worth protecting, even when I can't see it myself. "

"Then let me show you," Cade said, and the words carried the weight of ancient ritual and modern promise alike.

When he kissed her this time, it was nothing like the desperate claiming in the cellar that had started their bond.

This was reverent, deliberate, a conscious choice to open themselves completely to each other.

Lyra could feel Cade's wolf through the connection, no longer a separate entity but an integral part of who he was—protective, devoted, fierce with love that went beyond rational thought.

Their magic began to merge as they kissed, wolf energy and chaos power weaving together in patterns that felt both ancient and utterly new.

The founder's mark on Lyra's palm blazed with warmth that spread up her arm and through her entire body, and she could feel Cade's wolf responding with equal intensity.

"Not here," he said against her mouth, pulling back enough to speak. "Not on a stone floor with the world falling apart around us. You deserve better."

"The world is falling apart around us," Lyra pointed out, though she was already letting him help her to her feet. "And I'm not sure we have time for romance."

"We make time," Cade said firmly. "This matters too much to rush."

They made their way upstairs to her bedroom—the room she'd claimed as her own in the inn's residential wing. It was simply furnished but comfortable, with a four-poster bed that had probably been there since Vera's time and windows that looked out over the garden toward the falls.

The supernatural storm was still visible through the glass, lightning fracturing the sky in patterns that definitely weren't natural. But here, in this room with its thick walls and protective wards, the chaos felt distant and manageable.

"Are you sure about this?" Lyra asked as Cade closed the door behind them. "The complete bond—there's no taking it back once it's formed."

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life," Cade said, moving toward her with the fluid grace that marked him as predator even in human form. "Have you?"

Lyra considered the question seriously, thinking about everything that had brought them to this moment. The magical disasters, the supernatural politics, the weight of responsibilities she'd never asked for—all of it had led to this choice, this person, this love that felt bigger than both of them.

"No," she said finally. "I've never been sure of anything. But I'm sure of you."

Her statement seemed to break something in Cade’s careful control.

He crossed the room in three powerful strides, his eyes burning, his jaw tight with emotion.

When he gathered her into his arms, it wasn’t just lust—it was desperation threaded with reverence, the aching vulnerability of a man who’d almost lost everything and still couldn’t believe she’d chosen him.

Their lips met in a kiss that was part vow, part plea—slow and deep and searching, as if they were trying to memorize each other from the inside out.

Cade’s hands framed her face, then slid into her curls, cupping the back of her head as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping into her mouth with a growl that made her toes curl.

“I need you,” he murmured, his voice thick, gravelly. “Need to feel you under me. Around me. Mine.”

Lyra’s breath caught. “I’m yours,” she whispered, because it was true—not because of the bond, or the magic, or the prophecy that had tangled their lives, but because her heart had decided it before her mind had even caught up.

Cade groaned like the words shattered something inside him. His mouth found the curve of her neck, kissing and nipping his way down as his hands slid beneath her shirt. The warmth of his touch made her shiver.

"You smell like lightning and sage," he growled against her skin, dragging her shirt over her head. “Like home.”

He dropped it to the floor and stepped back just enough to look at her. The lust in his gaze was thick, palpable, almost feral. But behind it was something softer. Worshipful.

“You’re the most beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

He cupped her breasts, thumbs brushing over her nipples until they peaked under his touch. Lyra arched, gasping as her magic pulsed outward in golden waves.

“Your power is all around me,” he said, voice low and reverent. “It’s like your body sings for me.”

“It’s because of you,” she breathed, pulling his shirt up and over his head. “You make me feel safe. Seen. Desired.”

Cade kissed her again, harder now, all teeth and tongue and coiled hunger. He walked her backward until her knees hit the bed, then eased her down onto the mattress, following her with his body. The old four-poster creaked slightly beneath their weight, the wood fragrant with lavender and memory.

He took his time undressing her, peeling away her leggings and panties with deliberate care, as if each inch of revealed skin deserved a prayer. Lyra trembled under the attention, her thighs already slick with arousal, her breath coming fast.

Cade settled between her legs, pressing a kiss to her hip, then to her lower belly. “Open for me, sweetheart.”

She did—spread wide, shameless, aching. The second his mouth met her pussy, she cried out, fingers tangling in the sheets.

“Oh gods—Cade?—”

He groaned like her taste was his salvation. His tongue flicked over her clit, then flattened, then circled with maddening precision. He licked her like he knew exactly what she needed—alternating soft swipes with firmer pressure, coaxing her open, urging her higher.

“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping,” he said against her, voice hoarse. “You taste like magic.”