Page 42

JACE

T he celebration melted behind them like sugar on the tongue.

Laughter still danced in the air. Music floated down the hill, soft and fading, wrapped in the scent of bonfire smoke and fresh cider. But Jace barely heard any of it—not with Lyra’s hand curled in his and her eyes catching the moonlight like twin spells he’d never escape.

They walked in silence for a while, shoes crunching over pine needles, the forest pressing in soft and familiar around them. He led her to the grove without words—he didn’t need them. This path was old. Sacred. Hidden beneath oaks and thick-bellied stars.

When they reached the clearing, moonlight spilled through the trees like liquid silver. The grass was soft beneath their feet. Quiet surrounded them. Not the kind that made you feel alone.

The kind that made you feel held.

Jace stopped in the center, turned to her, and let himself really look.

She was radiant.

Barefoot now, flower crown tilted, her curls a mess of magic and moonshine. Her lips were flushed from laughing, and her eyes shimmered with something deeper than joy— belonging.

She tilted her head, teasing. “You gonna stare at me all night or kiss me?”

He stepped closer. “Can I do both?”

Her smile softened. “Always.”

He took her face in his hands and kissed her like a vow. Slow. Deep. The kind of kiss that rewrote everything that came before.

When he pulled back, their foreheads touched.

“I brought you here for a reason,” he said, voice low.

“I figured. You don’t do much without reason.”

“It’s shifter tradition. The claiming bite.” He paused. “It’s sacred to us. Permanent. No going back after this.”

Her fingers slid up his chest, curled around the collar of his shirt.

“I’m not going anywhere, Jace.”

His throat tightened.

“I need you to be sure.”

“I was sure the moment you yelled at Ezra like a feral dad wolf in the office.”

That made him laugh. “Romantic.”

She smirked. “I try.”

Then her expression shifted—softened.

“I love you,” she said, quietly. “And I want this. All of it. You. Us. The bond.”

His heart, steady, strong, always calm, stumbled.

“I’ve waited my whole damn life to feel this,” he admitted. “To feel you. And if you’re sure…”

She stepped back, just enough to tilt her head, baring the curve of her neck.

“I’m yours,” she whispered.

The wolf surged inside him. Not with hunger, but with reverence. It wasn’t about possession.

It was about promise.

Jace’s hands tightened on her hips, the heat of her skin branding him through the thin fabric of her dress. Her breath hitched when his teeth grazed her earlobe. “Still think I’m the grumpy one?”

“Prove you’re not,” she challenged, fingers already working the buttons of his shirt with chaotic precision. A button pinged off a tree trunk.

He huffed against her throat. “That was my last clean henley.”

“I’ll mend it with starlight later.” Her laugh dissolved into a gasp as his mouth found the pulse point beneath her jaw.

Clothes fell, her flowy skirt snagging on a branch, his boots kicked into the ferns.

When she arched against him, bare skin sliding against his, the world narrowed to the hitch of her breath and the way her nails scored his shoulders.

He took his time, mapping every freckle and scar with lips and calloused hands, lingering where she shivered.

“Jace.” His name cracked in her throat as he slid into her, slow as honey.

The cool night air wrapped around them, a whisper against their flushed skin, as Jace moved with a reverence that bordered on sacred.

Each thrust was a whispered vow, a slow dance under the watchful eyes of the ancient trees that stood as silent sentinels around them.

The moonlight filtered through the canopy, casting a silver glow that seemed to hallow the ground beneath them, where their bodies entwined.

Lyra's silken limbs encircled him, her touch a brand that seared his soul, marking him as irrevocably as any rune. She matched his pace, her hips rising to meet his, a perfect counterpoint to his careful rhythm. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps that turned to cries as he filled her.

Jace's control was a tenuous thread, unraveling with each of her moans, each undulation of her body that threatened to undo him.

He fought back the primal urge to claim her with the ferocity of his wolf, instead choosing to worship her with a tenderness that belied the storm raging within.

Her fingers danced along his spine, her touch igniting a trail of fire that threatened to consume him.

As their tempo increased, the world around them blurred, the sounds of the forest fading into the background until all that remained was the sound of their mingled breaths and the rustle of leaves beneath them.

Lyra's body tensed beneath his, her inner walls tightening around him, a silent plea for release.

He pulled his face away only to catch her tongue in a twist of need. Then, his storm-grey locked onto moss-green. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper. “This isn’t just the bond talking, Lyra. You know that, right?”

She nipped his lower lip. “Your brooding’s sexier when you’re not talking .”

He growled, hips snapping harder, and her breathless laugh tangled with moans as the rhythm turned fevered. The clearing smelled of crushed mint and sweat and her wild magic sparking between them. When her back bowed off the moss, he felt it—the cresting wave of her pleasure syncing with his own.

“Now,” she panted, fingers fisting in his hair. “ Now. ”

His teeth pierced her skin as they shattered together. Golden light erupted from her, illuminating the sweat-slick planes of his chest, the rune-like scars along his ribs. Magic thrummed between them, a live wire humming with shared breath and racing hearts.

With a groan, Jace surrendered to the demands of his body, driving into her with a newfound urgency.

Her cries grew louder, wilder, as she arched into him, her fingers clutching at his shoulders with a desperation that mirrored his own.

He could feel the precipice approaching, the sweet edge of oblivion that awaited them both.

Her breath hitched, her body quivering on the brink, and with a final, deep thrust, they tumbled over the edge together. The world exploded in a cascade of sensation, a rush of ecstasy that left them both spent and gasping for air.

In the aftermath, Jace lay beside her, their limbs still entangled, their hearts beating in unison.

He pulled her close, her head resting against the steady thrum of his heart.

The bond between them pulsed with a warmth that chased away the chill of the night, a tangible reminder of the promise they had just sealed.

And as they lay there, surrounded by the magic of the forest and the unspoken vows that hung in the air between them, Jace knew that he had found his anchor in the storm of life.

She traced the bite mark with reverent fingers. “So… do I get to leave hickeys on you too, or is this a one-sided vampire situation?”

He collapsed beside her, pulling her against his chest. “You’ve literally set my paperwork on fire twice . I’m not giving you more weapons.”

Her laughter faded as he brushed a curl from her glowing face. The words lodged in his throat, sharper than any alpha command.

“Marry me.”

Her smile didn’t waver, but her eyes went liquid. “Is that a question or an order, Alpha Montgomery?”

“A plea.” He pressed his forehead to hers, voice rougher than he intended. “From a man who’s terrible at asking for things.”

Her kiss tasted like promises and stolen cider. “Of course.”