Page 48 of Little Red Riding Hood (The GriMM Tales #1)

Twenty-One

M ine-claim-mark-mate .

The burning need to claim Red clawed through Wim’s chest as he walked behind him.

Every step, every sway of those narrow hips, every swish of red cloak, drove him mad with want .

He’d planned to lead them both far from this cursed place before claiming the one who belonged to him, but his control now stretched gossamer-thin.

The bond thrummed between them, raw and wild. Wim’s teeth ached with the need to mark that pale throat. To pin Red against the nearest tree and—no. Not here. Not in this dark, gloomy place that reeked of death.

But soon. Very soon.

Red’s scent filled his nostrils—wild berries mixed with lingering fear-sweat from their ordeal. But beneath it all lurked that intoxicating sweetness that made Wim’s wolf surge forward, desperate to chase, to hunt, to claim.

Then another scent cut through the air—night-blooming jasmine. Pure. Clean. Perfect .

Wim lifted his head, nostrils flaring. The breeze carried promises of soft petals and secret places. He gripped Red’s shoulder, steering them in a different direction.

“What are you—” Red started to protest.

“Trust me, sweetheart.” The endearment rolled off his tongue like silk. “There’s somewhere special nearby.”

Red spun to face him, those gorgeously mismatched eyes so wide and so, so trusting. The sight knocked the breath from Wim’s lungs. Gone was the haughty palace brat who’d stumbled into his forest. In his place stood someone raw and real—someone who’d sacrificed his own blood for Wim’s life.

Wim crushed his mouth to Red’s, drinking in his gasp of surprise. His hands found Red’s waist, pulling him close enough to feel the thundering pulse beneath that milk-pale skin.

Memories of Oma’s cottage flooded back—the sickening crunch as the hellhound’s teeth had torn into his flesh, the copper tang of his own blood pooling beneath him.

He’d known then that death approached on swift wings.

The beast that was Red’s father had meant to end him.

Perhaps the hellhound only sought to protect its own mate—Old Oma—from a perceived threat.

Yet Red had chosen him, without hesitation. Had given up the chance to know his true parents, had watched his mother sacrifice herself to save Wim’s life. The depth of that gift staggered him.

The witch’s dying words rang in his ears: only by claiming Red’s heart could he ever hope to be free of his feral sickness.

Red’s fingers tangled in his hair, dragging him deeper into the kiss. Wim growled low in his throat, his wolf rising to meet that demanding touch. This beautiful, fierce creature had become everything to him.

He broke the kiss, pressing his forehead to Red’s as they both caught their breath.

“It’s not much further.”

Wim grabbed Red’s hand, half running through the Dark Forest, dragging Red along beside him .

The jasmine scent grew stronger as Wim pushed through a curtain of hanging vines. Seeing what lay beyond had his breath catching in his throat.

A hidden grotto.

Crystalline water tumbled down moss-covered rocks into a circular pool, its surface like polished obsidian in the dim light. Steam rose up from the water—a hot spring. The heat it generated filled the grotto with warmth, a pocket of bliss within the cold forest.

Along the water’s edge, clusters of luminous fungi pulsed with blue-green light. The glow caught Red’s face, painting his skin in mystical hues that made his eyes shimmer, and Wim’s chest squeezed at the sight of it.

“It’s beautiful here,” Red whispered, releasing Wim’s hand to crouch beside a patch of the glowing mushrooms. His hands hovered just above their delicate caps.

The fungi’s light rippled across the pool’s surface, creating patterns that danced like starlight on the water. “I’ve never seen anything like them.”

The awe in Red’s words made Wim’s wolf preen with satisfaction. Wim inhaled deeply, savouring how the jasmine mixed with Red’s berry sweetness. Here, away from the oppressive darkness of the witch’s territory, everything felt lighter. Purer.

Crossing his legs, Red stared into the pool.

It was breathtaking here. But something about the way Red held his back completely straight… a tightness to his jaw…

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Wim ran his knuckles across Red’s chin.

Red’s shoulders tensed beneath Wim’s touch. “I just can’t stop thinking… that you have no choice in all this. Right?”

The words pierced Wim like an arrow. He dropped his hand, stomach churning over waves of panic at the fear threading through Red’s voice. How could Red think that?

“You think I—” Wim couldn’t finish the sentence. The mere suggestion tasted like ash in his mouth. He’s been through a lot, he told himself. What with finding his long-lost parents and then the subsequent death of said parents not ten minutes later.

If Wim could take all the hurt away and give it to himself, he’d do it in a heartbeat.

“Well, it’s true isn’t it?” Red wrapped his arms around himself, shrinking away. “Old Oma said you needed my heart to break your curse. So now you have no choice. You’ll never get to have a wolf-mate, because you were forced to mate with me, and then be stuck with me forev—”

“Stop.” Wim’s voice shook terribly. He shifted to face Red properly, fighting the urge to gather him close. “Look at me, sweetheart.”

Those perfectly unique eyes met his, swimming with unshed tears.

“That first night in the forest, when I found you… I could hear your heart beating.” Wim brushed away the tear that escaped down Red’s cheek.

“Didn’t understand it then, but I do now—your heart was singing to mine all along.

Everything we’ve got? It’s real as anything.

I promise. I wanted you since the first moment I caught your scent. ”

Wim hadn’t known what the smell meant back then, but now he did perfectly: mine, mine, mine.

“When Old Oma said I needed your heart… well, it all fell into place. Makes perfect sense now, doesn’t it? How you’re the only one who could tame the beast in me, bring me back to myself when no one else could.”

Red’s lip trembled. “But still, now you’re obligated to—”

“I’m not obligated to do anything.” Wim caught Red’s chin between his thumb and forefinger. “I wouldn’t be asking to make you mine if I wasn’t dead certain I want you by my side for all my days.”

Red looked away from him. “But you can’t be completely certain of that already,” he mumbled. “Don’t you want to wait a bit, at least?”

“No. I don’t want to wait a day longer, because I already love you, you impossible fool.

” The words burst from him like a dam breaking.

“ Because watching you sleep makes my chest ache. Because your smile lights up the darkest parts of me. Because even when you’re driving me mad with your stubbornness, I can’t imagine wanting anyone else. ”

Red blinked rapidly, more tears spilling over. “But what if—”

“No what-ifs.” Wim pressed their foreheads together. “I choose you . You, Red. Not because of any magic or illness. I wanted you before we found out you have Oma’s heart. You know that in your bones, sweetheart. You’ve got to know it.”

His voice was cracking more by the second. Fuck, what more could he say to get Red to believe him?

“And… after we are mates… I suppose we will go and live with your pack?”

Wim pressed another kiss to Red’s forehead. “ Our pack, sweetheart.”

The thought made Wim giddy with joy. Everyone would love Red, he knew it already.

“But… I’m not a wolf,” Red whispered. “Not a wildling.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Wim replied forcefully. “You can still be pack.”

“But I’ll never be able to run beside you.”

Wim shrugged. “I’ll carry you on my back.”

“Are… there any other humans there? Where your pack lives?”

Red’s eyes lit up in hope and Wim’s heart sank. “No… but don’t you worry about that. And if any of them so much as looks at you wrong…” He rumbled a warning growl in his chest, and Red gave a weak laugh.

Red could have asked Wim not to return to his pack, but he didn’t, and for that, Wim was overwhelmingly grateful. Wim would have agreed, of course, though it would have split his heart in two.

“What about the Queen? What if she comes looking for me? Sends her Shadow?”

Then I’ll burn the world down to keep you safe .

Wim grabbed Red’s hand, and squeezed it tightly. “We’ll have to hope your mother’s protection still stands.”

“I suppose the Shadow helped my mother when the Queen sent him to steal me. Perhaps when he comes next, he can somehow be persuaded to form some trickery against her.” Red’s expression changed, eyebrows knitting together. “And… we will live in your cottage?”

Wim nodded through a pang of homesickness quickly replaced by images of Red kneeling by the fire, warming his hands while Wim cooked him the most delicious of meals.

Red’s eyes widened. “Tell me about it.”

“Built it myself, from the ground up. Three good-sized rooms, and a proper thatched roof that keeps the cold out. There’s a large hearth in the main room—perfect for when you want to sprawl out on the rug with one of them adventure books you love so much. We could read them together.”

Red hiccuped a laugh.

“And there’s an enormous bed, all soft with feather pillows. Where I’ll take my time making love to you before holding you all night, safe in my arms.”

“Stop!” Tears were pouring down Red’s cheeks, and his shoulders shook. The sight tore at Wim’s heart—what did he say so wrong?

“I can’t—” Red pressed his hand to his mouth. “You can’t possibly want all that with me! ”

“Course I do,” Wim protested. “Come home with me, Red. I’ll cook for you every day.

You can spend your days keeping an eye on Toby, and your nights in my bed.

” Wim swiped at the torrent of tears flooding Red’s face, as if he could permanently erase his sadness.

“You’ll never be alone again.” He pressed their lips together, licking the salt from Red’s lips.

“I’ll take such good care of you. Let me love you, Red. ”