Page 142 of My Solemn Vow

Until my eyes fall to his shoulder.

The wound doesn’t make sense.What the fuck is this about? What is this?“How did this happen?”

Valor cuts me off with a kiss. “It’s a mating mark. It’s a primal instinct to claim each other as mates.”

He helps me down off the vanity and spins me so I face the mirror. When he brushes my braid off my shoulder, I see the mark.

“It’ll turn into a silvery scar, showing we own each other — forever.” He kisses it and then up my neck, “Till death do we part.”

“Mmhmm.” I lean forward, looking at it.

The bite is four puncture marks, not half circles like I’d expect.

“Fangs,”he says, and it’s almost as if he’s in stereo inside my head.

I look up in the mirror and squint at him.Why does his voice sound different? What the fuck did this asshole do to me?

“One of the perks of being a mated wolf. It’s the bond. And...It’s not nice to call names.”He smirks, but his lips don’t move as I hear the words.

“You can talk in my brain. You can hear me, in my brain.” This new reality of not being normal — again — settles over me all at once. My body gets stiff, and I want to run or do something. I cover my face with my hands.

This is so not good. How did life get to be this way?It’s rhetorical, of course. The road here was quite clear.

Valor pulls my hands away and wraps his arms around me, holding me to him. “I can hear some of your thoughts in your brain. Just like you can only hear some of mine. It’s kind of like if you think about me or to me, it passes through. Sometimes, the big thoughts just kinda happen automatically. So, I’d fully expect to hear something like ‘This fuckin’ idiot’ no less than four times a day when I’m working.”

I snort, thinking of how relatable that is, but then thedeviousness of how I can make this more fun sets in. It doesn’t have to be scary. “I can only imagine how many times you’re going to hear all the teacherisms at school.”

“God help me.” Valor holds me tightly again.

My heartbeat slows, and my shoulders come down from around my ears. When he’s sufficiently satisfied with the hug, he takes me by both hands and leads me to the shower.

Enveloped in the glass-walled shower, Valor cleans me. Lightly massaging, he works my muscles under the soothing hot water as he scrubs.

I hear Valor in my mind, small requests and adorations like, ‘That’s it’ and ‘Good.’

The blood of the day washes down the drain.

My mind wanders to Christmas cookies, and Valor kisses me, redirecting my focus back to him. He must hear more of my random thoughts than I anticipated. But he doesn’t bring it up. Instead, he uses intimate touches and praise while wrapping me up in a towel.

Almost an hour later, in the quiet hours of the morning, despite how tired I am, sleep doesn’t come.

Wrapped up in the familiar chocolate and bourbon scents of Valor, I’m physically at rest, my body letting go of the last bit of tension as I embrace the feeling of safety. But closing my eyes and trying to rest does nothing.

Valor’s breathing hasn’t evened out to peaceful sleeping sounds.

So we’re both awake, lying here, looking up at the ceiling.

I roll my head to look at him, and the darkness no longer seems that dark with how easy it is to make out his features. But a question has been eating at me. No, it’s been clawing at the back of my brain, trying to get out. The smallest thing has been bothering me until it no longer feels small.

“Did you mean it?”

“Probably, but what are you talking about?” Valor yawns and rolls to face me.

Immediately, the warmth radiating off him reaches me.

“Did you mean it when you said you loved me?” I swallow hard.

Am I ready for the truth? Do I want him to love me? Will it destroy me if he doesn’t?