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His lips parted. Maybe I should’ve been scared to have those fangs so close to my pussy, but the sight of them only made me pulse harder with need. I rocked my hips again in a wordless plea—I was desperate for him to take my panties off and put his mouth where I needed him most.

But he didn’t. Instead, he licked a long stripe up the crotch of my panties.

I cried out a moan. Thank God we were alone.

The cotton between his tongue and my pussy somehow heightened the sensation and drew me right up to the edge of pleasure.

He responded to my sound with a growl of his own as he licked me again, and again, and again, like he was trying to taste me through the fabric.

I was already so wet, he probably could.

He ate me out with none of his usual finesse and skill.

There was just pure hunger, pure need, a wild-eyed desire as he drew his tongue all over me.

Occasionally, he paused and exhaled hard into my thighs, fangs pressing to the skin there, like he was already eager to bite.

All I could do was throw a leg over his shoulder and hang on for the ride.

He found the right rhythm, pressing the flat of his tongue to my clit over and over. “Like that,” I said through a gasp. I rocked my hips against his face, and there was that rumbling growl again, except this time I felt the vibrations of his voice in my bones.

It felt incredible. Pleasure coiled between my hips.

He tightened his grip on my wrists, and with the other grasped my hip, pinning me to the mattress, his tongue focused on my clit.

I couldn’t control myself as I gasped out a series of desperate sounds, half moans, and choked-off syllables of his name.

“Steph!” I cried out.

My whole body tensed, and I arched my back off the mattress. The orgasm was so intense I saw fireworks behind my eyes. It seemed like it lasted forever, rolling through me, making my toes curl, making goosebumps dance down my forearms all the way to his hands still on my wrists.

Slowly, he released me and lifted his head. His mouth was slick with spit and my arousal, his face flushed, eyes burning gold.

He was so fucking gorgeous. I was so ready to spend the rest of my life with this man.

Steph released my wrists. He hooked both hands into the waistband of my panties. I expected him to pull them off, but instead he gripped them and ripped until the fabric tore in two .

Sure, I just had a mind-blowing orgasm, but I suddenly felt like I was about to have another one right that second.

He slid both hands up my thighs, then dragged two fingers over my pussy. I was so wet, dripping with need, and hypersensitive to his touch. I gasped at the contact like I’d been zapped. He smiled and kissed my hip, then pressed two fingertips to my entrance.

“No, no,” I said, shifting away from his touch.

“Hm?” He stopped immediately. He grasped my waist and crawled up my body, so his face was right against mine. “What is it? You okay?”

My heart warmed. “So good,” I promised. I caught his lips in a searing kiss. “Don’t want your fingers. Want your cock.”

“Jesus,” Steph growled.

I wrapped both legs around his waist. He reached between our bodies and gripped the base of his cock, then pressed the fat head of it against my slick, waiting folds.

“Please,” I gasped out. “Steph, take me! Claim me!”

He growled and entered me in one smooth, perfect thrust.

I gasped, my back arching as I clung to him. He groaned in pleasure as he began to thrust into me, over and over, in a perfect rhythm, at a perfect pace. It was like our bodies were made for each other. Well, we were fated… So, I guess they were.

I lost myself in it.

Sex was always good with him, but it’d never felt like this.

This close. This powerful. Like our bodies were merging into one.

Two halves, coming together to make a whole.

I kissed every bit of skin I could see—his face, his shoulder, his jaw.

I dug my nails into his back and cried out his name at each thrust.

I wanted to be here forever.

“It’s so good,” I gasped. “So good, Steph, I love you, I’m gonna come again?—”

The pleasure was building again, low in my gut. Each thrust pushed me closer to the edge.

He was close, too. He pressed me harder into the mattress and thrust impossibly deeper. It was so goddamn good, my moan was nearly a shout. It was electric.

“Steph,” I begged into his ear, “Claim me, please, mate me, make me yours!”

Steph tangled his hand in my hair, tilted my head to the side, and sank his fangs into my skin.

I blacked out as I came.

It was better than any orgasm I’d ever had—and that was saying a lot.

It was like a hundred orgasms stacked on top of each other.

It was like sinking slowly into a hot bath, like an embrace, like the most delicious glass of wine I’d ever had.

My entire body melted beneath him. Pliant. Knocked flat by desire and pleasure.

I kept my ankles crossed behind Steph’s back.

His teeth were still buried in my neck as he came hard, his cock pulsing inside me as he spilled his release.

I raked my fingers through his hair, holding him close as he claimed me.

Blood slid down my shoulder onto the sheets.

Romantic , I thought in a dizzy daze of pleasure.

Steph released my neck. He was still buried inside me as he drew his tongue over the wound, lapping up the blood. The skin tingled as it healed, the process sped up by his shifter magic.

Then, I felt it.

It was like a candle had been lit somewhere deep in my chest. A small, flickering flame.

I gasped.

The bond.

“I feel it,” I whispered. “Steph, I feel it. I feel you.”

That’s what it was. A feeling of real, tangible connection between us. I was feeling my emotions, but not only my emotions. I felt love, and pride, and possessiveness, and joy… And it was all coming from Steph .

“I feel you, too,” Steph whispered against my neck. “It’s different than before. Stronger.” He sighed dreamily. “Feels like…”

“Like coming home.”

“Like home,” he agreed.

I caught his lips in another kiss. It was still deep, and tasted a little coppery from my own blood. Somehow that only made my heart beat harder. It was passionate, without the intense hunger we’d both felt before.

We lay like that, tangled together until we both caught our breath. With some reluctance, Steph finally pulled out of me, and I whimpered at the loss.

“Come on,” he murmured. “Let’s clean up your bite.”

“You already cleaned it, right?” I complained. My legs felt like jelly. There was no way this man was expecting me to stand up right now.

“I helped it heal,” he said. “That’s not exactly cleaning it. We’re not in the twelfth century anymore.”

“Dragons still have rituals from the twelfth century?”

“Of course we do.” Steph stood up—he was a little shaky himself—then scooped me up into a bridal carry. “One of those is cleaning up our fated mates after we claim them.”

I nuzzled closer to his chest. “Fine. As long as you carry me.”

He did. He carried me into the bathroom, then lowered me into the tub.

He washed me clean with such care I nearly fell asleep right there in his arms. When he helped me out, he guided me to the bathroom counter.

I stood up, leaning back against his chest for support.

Steph reached around me and wiped the steam from the mirror.

He swept my hair aside and whispered, “Look.”

There, right where I had imagined it, was a beautiful mating bite. The skin was already healed: a fresh, shiny pink. I reached up and traced the shape of his teeth in my skin. The mark tingled and made me shiver.

“What do you think?” Steph asked.

I met his eyes in the mirror. There was a small, unsure furrow in his brow. It was like he’d bought me a fancy necklace and was now afraid he’d picked the wrong one.

It was adorable. I turned around in his arms. “It’s perfect. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Then it suits you,” he said with a smile.

He kissed me. Love vibrated through our bond in an infinite loop.

My mate. My home.

A few uneventful, happy weeks went by. I started to get used to the bond, and how I could feel Steph even when he wasn’t in the room. It was soothing. Steadying.

I also understood why it would be so hard to lose it. If we had done this before his battle with Sean, the fear and the pain would’ve shattered me. And my fear may have distracted Steph.

I was glad we’d waited. Even if it had been hard.

On an ordinary Saturday, I woke up feeling a little… off.

“You all right?” Steph asked. He sat up in bed and brushed the hair off my forehead. “You look a little pale.”

“Kind of nauseous,” I said. “I had lunch with Mom yesterday. Maybe we got something bad.”

“Her place is supposed to have better food than half the restaurants in New York,” Steph said. “Do we need to file a complaint?”

I chuckled and shook my head. He was right, though, the facility was really nice.

I still couldn’t believe Mom was actually there—at a rehab facility by her own choice .

After she’d accidentally gotten me kidnapped, it’d finally clicked that she needed help.

I hadn’t even helped her move into the facility.

She’d just called me out of the blue, told me where she was, and asked me to come visit.

Lunch had been nice. It was like I was finally getting to see the woman I had so many fond memories of, instead of the shade of addiction she’d become.

It made me feel like we had a future. Like she’d finally be the grandmother Dylan needed. We already had plans to have lunch again next week, and Dylan was coming with me.

“You want any breakfast?” Steph asked. “I’ll make something.”

That only made my stomach turn more. “Ugh, I don’t think so. I just need a little more sleep.”

“Okay,” Steph said with a small, curious furrow in his brow. His nostrils flared. He opened his mouth like he was about to say something, then swooped down and kissed me briefly. “Go back to sleep, then.”

I was too tired to ask what he was about to say, so I rolled over and passed back out.

When I woke up a few hours later, the sun was already high in the sky.

I was still a little nauseous, but I felt better.

I pulled on a fluffy bathrobe and padded downstairs.

Steph was in the living room, watching TV with Dylan.

I stepped into the kitchen to make coffee, and as soon as I did, Dylan whipped around.

His nostrils flared. “Mom, you smell different. Are you okay?”

“I smell different?” I echoed. “Different how? Bad?”

“Not bad,” Steph said. “Far from it.” He stood up from the couch, his eyes burning gold. He pulled me close, then pressed his nose behind my ear and inhaled deeply. “You smell amazing.” He pressed his palm flat to my lower belly.

I gasped. “You don’t mean…”

“Yeah,” he murmured. “You are.”

I squawked and shoved him off, wide-eyed. “Are you serious?! I didn’t know you could even do that! And Dylan can too?”

“Do what?” Dylan asked, blinking.

“Oh my god.” I pushed both hands through my hair. “I need more proof than a sniff test!”

Steph laughed, a bright, happy sound. “I thought you might.” He grabbed a plastic bag from the kitchen counter—I hadn’t noticed it—and handed it to me. “I went out and grabbed some while you were sleeping.”

“Oh my god!” I said again, then rushed back upstairs to our bathroom.

Five minutes later, I was staring down at two pink lines on the test—on multiple tests.

Pregnant.

I was pregnant!

I walked out of the bathroom in a daze. Steph was waiting for me in the bedroom. He had a huge smile on his face, and he swept me into an embrace before I could even say a word.

“I’m so excited,” he said. “I’m so, so excited.”

“Me too,” I said. To my surprise, there was a little hitch in my voice, and I felt tears prickling behind my eyes.

He pulled away. “What is it?” he asked, watching me with new concern in his eyes. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” I said, then I laughed as tears crawled down my cheeks. “Yeah, I’m just really happy.”

Tears sprung to his eyes, too. “Me too,” he said. He pulled me close again. “We’re in this together, Harley.”

“I know,” I whispered. “Forever.”

He kissed me. Love flowed through the bond connecting us. I felt it from the crown of my head to the tips of my toes. Steph was my partner, my mate, the other half of my soul.

We were starting the next part of our journey. And this time, we were doing it together.