Page 22 of Jace’s Mate (East Coast Territory #1)

Before her eyes, his already powerful form rippled and blurred. Bones shifted, his torso arched—and with a graceful motion that looked almost like light bending, the man she’d been ogling became something more .

A massive black wolf stood before her.

Tall. Regal. Muscles rippling beneath his dark fur, his eyes glowing with the same blue intensity that made her knees weak in his human form. He looked like the forest’s chosen protector—something ancient, wild, and breathtaking.

And hers.

Hers.

Anikka padded closer, resisting the instinct to rub against him, to press her side into his, to bury her snout in the thick fur of his neck and just breathe him in.

Holding back, Anikka panted, sides heaving, her body buzzing with energy she didn’t quite understand. Everything felt too much —the wind in her fur, the scent of pine, the forest around them humming like a heartbeat she could finally hear.

And then Jace was there.

He moved to her without hesitation, his gorgeous black fur brushing against hers in long, delicious passes.

His snout slid along her neck with a low growl of approval, and the moment his tongue touched her, licked her, something inside her melted .

The sensation wasn’t sexual, not entirely—it was claiming , grounding.

Like a kiss… but deeper. She blinked in shock, then inhaled sharply.

She could smell him on her now—woodsmoke and male, sharp and clean and utterly intoxicating. Her instincts urged her to bury her snout against his shoulder, to breathe him in until she understood every layer of who he was. But... was that too forward?

Then she remembered they weren’t alone.

Turning slightly, she froze.

The entire pack was watching.

Not just watching— howling . Voices rose around her, joyous and high, echoing through the trees. Young wolves pranced. Older ones wagged their tails. The sound wasn’t mocking—it was celebration . Pure, wild delight.

Anikka’s heart swelled. She wanted to throw her head back and join them, to laugh with abandon, to dance in the dirt.

And then Jace sniffed the air.

She went still instantly, the way the entire clearing did.

She couldn’t explain it—but when Jace lifted his head and howled, the world shifted.

Every muscle in her body coiled with anticipation.

She didn’t know what the howl meant, not exactly, but it pulled something primal from inside her. A need. A hunger.

The wolves around them surged toward the trees, taking off with powerful strides.

But Anikka stayed rooted.

By Jace’s side.

He turned, brushing his shoulder against hers once more. Then he licked her again, softer this time, before shifting his body to face the woods. He glanced at her, just once, but that look carried more reassurance than words ever could. Pride. Trust. Invitation.

And with a slow nod of his head, she heard it.

Let’s run.

The words weren’t spoken aloud—they slid into her mind like cool water.

She laughed —or tried to. The sound came out as a joyful yip—and then she leaped forward, following him into the trees.

She didn’t know where she was going. She didn’t care .

The forest opened before her like a story waiting to be written, and for the first time in her life, she wasn’t afraid of turning the page.

She was free.

The wind tore through her fur as she raced, dodging trunks and leaping over fallen branches. Birds flitted in the canopy, their wings beating overhead. Everything was alive. Everything was hers .

This was what she’d been missing.

This was what Uncle Wilton had stolen from her.

He’d demanded she suppress this wild, powerful piece of herself—and she hated him for it. Now that she understood what he’d tried to take, she wanted to tear him to shreds .

But not tonight.

Tonight, she just wanted to run.

Jace nudged her, guiding her left through a cluster of trees. She followed easily, brushing her side against his in silent joy.

Is it always this wonderful? she asked, stunned that she could send the thought to him so clearly.

Always , he replied, and his gaze made her insides tumble. His blue eyes glowed like firelight behind glass. And it gets better.

How?

You’ll feel more. Everything sharpens. Scent, thought, emotion. And mind-to-mind speaking like this? It becomes second nature.

Her breath caught as joy bubbled up through her chest like champagne. You’re right. I’ve never… I’ve never done this before. Not even a hint of it.

You’re doing it now. His approval wrapped around her like a second coat of fur.

He guided her right, nipping her neck gently, and a shiver of heat sparked through her.

Anikka stumbled.

Desire coursed through her so swiftly that her claws scraped the earth to regain balance. She didn’t even think—she pressed her side against him again, hoping for another nip.

He obliged.

She head-butted his shoulder in thanks, and he huffed a pleased sound.

Then, Jace howled—deep and commanding, the kind of sound that echoed off trees and set every instinct inside her on fire.

In the distance, voices answered.

She listened, eyes closing briefly, and counted . The howls came from every direction. Older wolves, younger ones, betas. All safe.

Relief swept through her, and she stretched her legs, letting her stride lengthen. She tipped her head back and howled too—her voice not as loud, but strong and clear.

The response was instant—and different. These weren’t simply confirmations. These were welcomes . Celebrations . Notes of joy and pride and affection layered in every sound. Her soul soaked it up like sunlight.

Too soon, her body began to falter.

Her stride shortened. Her panting grew louder.

I need to slow down, she told Jace, her tongue lolling as she struggled to cool herself. You keep going.

But Jace was already beside her, nipping her lightly and veering off the main trail.

Keep going. We’re almost back.

She pushed forward, fighting the heaviness in her limbs.

You can do it , he encouraged. Just a bit longer.

I’m so tired , she groaned.

He nipped her again and trotted slightly ahead, just enough to challenge her but not so far that she felt alone.

And then—the trees parted. The clearing appeared ahead, tall grasses swaying in the moonlight.

They slowed.

The wind eased. Her legs still ached, but she reveled in the stretch of them. The tall grass brushed her belly and soothed her overworked muscles.

A few minutes later, Jace led her back to the circle where they’d started. The vans were still there, dark against the tree line.

Anikka’s body felt boneless.

Muscles trembling, she dropped into a slow trot, still refusing to fall behind. She wouldn’t look weak—not in front of him.

He wasn’t even winded.

Her pride flared, but she swallowed it. At least she’d finished.

Finally, Jace halted.

Anikka collapsed into a sit. The dirt felt cool beneath her fur. She wiggled slightly, adjusting her tail— her tail! She looked over her shoulder and gave it a little twitch.

A flicker of amusement passed through her. Should she try to catch it?

Nope. Not now.

She was too tired to move.

Jace lifted his head and let out a final howl—lower than before, more measured. The kind of sound a king gives to his court. The pack’s leader declared the run complete.

Anikka couldn’t even try to translate it. Her brain was soup.

She nearly tipped sideways—but before she could embarrass herself, Jace’s large body sank down beside her.

Warm.

Solid.

Perfect.

She leaned into him automatically, sighing as his fur pressed against hers. He nudged her neck again, inhaling slowly, and then let his snout linger along her jaw. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t just a scent check.

It was affection .

She returned the gesture shyly, sliding her snout against his neck. He smelled like earth and smoke and something warm and dangerous. She wanted to bury herself in him. To lick every inch. To stay like this forever.

But all she could do was sigh and press closer.

She was just too blissfully, utterly, soul-deep exhausted.

And for the first time in her life, that exhaustion felt like peace.