“Good morning.” Alfie kissed her shoulder as she rolled over to face him.
“Is it?” she asked, her voice croaky as her eyes adjusted to the dim light.
His expression faltered, and she cupped his face and pressed her lips to his.
As their kiss deepened, Marion pulled back just enough to murmur against his lips, “I meant, is it morning already? It’s still dark outside.”
Alfie chuckled, his chest vibrating against her hand where it rested over his heart. “Yes, it is. Technically.” He inched away from her reluctantly. “I didn’t want Charlie to find me in your bed, so I wanted to leave early.”
“Oh, yes, of course,” Marion said as she glanced at the clock.
It was only five, and Charlie didn’t usually wake for another couple of hours, but she didn’t want to take any chances.
Not that she was ashamed or embarrassed about her relationship with Alfie.
And she knew Charlie would be over the moon when he found out.
But Alfie was right. This needed to be handled carefully.
The last thing she wanted was to cause confusion or complicate Charlie’s life further.
Still, as Alfie slipped from her bed and dragged on his clothes, she wanted nothing more than to reach for him and pull him back to her.
“Will I see you today?” Alfie asked as he perched on the edge of the bed, stroking her shoulder with fingertips that sent shivers down her spine.
She reached for his hand and pressed light kisses on his palm before tracing small circles with her tongue.
He groaned, and the sound ignited a fire in her core.
Maybe they had time to make love one more time before he left.
The memory of his hands on her body, his mouth exploring her intimately, flicked her desire up a notch.
“You’re not making this easy,” he murmured as he leaned forward, pushed the covers down over her breasts, and sucked her nipple into his mouth.
A shock of electricity coursed through her, and heat built in her core as he rolled his tongue over the taut bud.
She whimpered as he slid his hand beneath the sheets and stroked her inner thigh before caressing her bundle of nerves.
She opened her thighs, and he slipped two fingers inside her, while his thumb stroked her mound and his mouth teased her breasts.
As her orgasm built, she covered his hand with hers, relishing the feel of him inside her.
He’d learned quickly what she liked, and he was merciless at bringing her pleasure.
She turned her head to the side, her hands gripping the sheets as he flicked his tongue over her nipples, pushing her over the edge.
Damn, he was good. And he was hers.
As she closed her eyes, her body tensed and as her orgasm swept over her, she pictured the man turning into a bear. A shifter, he’d called it— her shifter. Fated to be hers forever. Just as she was fated to be his.
For some people, the lack of choice in their life partner might be hard. But for Marion, it was a blessing. It meant she would never make the same mistake her sister had and choose the wrong man. A man who had no regard for others.
When her breathing steadied, she opened her eyes to find Alfie watching her with such tenderness it made her heart ache. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, then her nose, and finally her lips.
“I should go,” he whispered, though he made no move to leave.
Marion nodded, running her fingers through his tousled hair. “I know. But I’ll see you later? Charlie wanted to ask you to dinner this evening.”
“Wild bears couldn’t keep me away,” he said with a grin, then winced at his own joke. “Sorry, that was terrible, even for me.”
Marion laughed softly. “I’m getting used to your terrible jokes. They’re growing on me.”
“Like moss?” Alfie suggested, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Exactly like moss,” she agreed, pulling him down for one last kiss.
This time, he did stand, adjusting his clothes and running a hand through his hair in a futile attempt to tame it. “I’ll text you when I get to the garden center.”
“Okay,” Marion said, watching him move toward her bedroom door. “Be careful going down the stairs. The third one creaks.”
He nodded, blowing her a kiss before slipping out the door. Marion listened as he navigated the stairs, holding her breath at the slight squeak of the third step. Then came the soft click of the front door, and he was gone.
She sank back against the pillows, still warm from where he’d lain beside her.
Her body hummed with satisfaction, but more than that, her heart felt full in a way she’d never experienced before.
Not just because of the physical connection they’d shared, but because of the deeper bond forming between them.
The mating bond. She liked that. And they sure had mated last night. Many times. She snuggled down under the covers, still warm from where Alfie had slept. Then she closed her eyes, and drifted off to sleep, to dream of a bear who had the same eyes as Alfie. Who was hers as much as the man.
She woke sometime later, the room lighter, the sun brighter.
She lay still for a moment. Had last night been a dream?
Without Alfie by her side, it was easy to think her mind had conjured the whole thing.
But her body still thrummed to his touch, to the feel of him inside her.
His lips on hers, his hands roaming her body.
She threw the covers off. If she didn’t get up and get dressed and make a pot of coffee, she’d get lost in her dreams and need a cold shower. An ice-cold shower might be the only way to cool her desire for her shifter mate.
Marion pulled on her clothes and went downstairs, filled the coffeepot, and waited for it to brew. As she listened to it, she went to the window and looked out. If the weather was nice, she and Charlie would...
Oh! She let out a cry, quickly smothering it with her hand. She stood there, listening. Had she woken Charlie? The house was quiet. With trembling hands, she went to the front door and opened it.
“What are you doing here?” she hissed.
“Is that any way to greet your sister?” Heather asked in return.
Marion’s blood ran cold as she stared at the woman standing on her porch. Heather looked thinner than when Marion had last seen her, her once-vibrant blonde hair now dull and pulled back in a severe ponytail. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, but the defiant tilt of her chin was exactly the same.
“You’re supposed to be in prison,” Marion whispered, glancing over her shoulder toward the stairs. Charlie couldn’t see her. Not now. Not like this.
“Out on bail,” Heather replied with a brittle smile. “Pending the trial. Turns out they didn’t have as much evidence on me as they thought.”
Marion’s grip tightened on the door. “You shouldn’t be here. The court order—”
“I know what the court order says,” Heather interrupted, her voice hardening. “I’m not allowed to see Charlie without supervision. So supervise me. I want to see my son.”
“He’s sleeping,” Marion said, stepping outside and pulling the door nearly closed behind her. The morning air was cool against her skin, but her insides felt like ice. “How did you find us?”
Heather let out a harsh laugh. “You’re not exactly in witness protection, Marion. You still have the same email address, same phone number. It wasn’t hard. If you know how to look.”
Marion crossed her arms over her chest, fighting to keep her voice steady. “You need to leave.”
“Not until I see Charlie,” Heather insisted, taking a step forward.
“No.” Marion stood her ground, though her heart was hammering so hard she felt dizzy. “He’s doing well here. He’s healing. I won’t let you disrupt that.”
Something flickered in Heather’s eyes—pain, perhaps, or regret. But it was quickly replaced by the familiar stubbornness Marion had dealt with all her life.
“He’s my son,” Heather said, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.
“And you lost the right to see him when you chose Razor over his safety,” Marion shot back, anger finally breaking through her shock. “When you let that man…”
“Don’t,” Heather warned, holding up a hand. “Don’t pretend you understand what happened.”
“I understand enough,” Marion replied. “I understand that Charlie still has nightmares. That he flinches when someone raises their voice. That he’s only now beginning to act like a normal child again.”
Heather’s face crumpled slightly, but she quickly composed herself. “I made mistakes. I know that. But I’m his mother.”
“And I’m his legal guardian,” Marion reminded her. “By court order. The same court that’s going to try you as an accessory to Razor’s crimes.”
Heather’s eyes narrowed. “My lawyer says the charges will be dropped.”
“For your sake, I hope that’s true,” Marion said, meaning it despite everything. “But it doesn’t change the fact that you can’t see Charlie right now.”
“You always were self-righteous,” Heather spat, her voice rising. “Always thought you knew better than everyone else.”
Marion flinched at the familiar accusation but held firm. “This isn’t about me. It’s about what’s best for Charlie.”
“And you get to decide that?” Heather challenged.
“Yes,” Marion said simply. “For now, I do.”
They stared at each other, the silence stretching between them like a chasm. Marion could see the calculation in her sister’s eyes, the desperate need warring with the knowledge that making a scene would only hurt her case.
Finally, Heather stepped back. “This isn’t over.”
“I know,” Marion acknowledged, her shoulders sagging slightly. “But for now, please leave. If you want to arrange a supervised visit, contact my lawyer.”
Heather’s laugh was hollow. “ Your lawyer. Listen to you.”
If only you had, Marion wanted to say but bit back the words, knowing it would only make things worse.
Heather turned to go, then paused, looking back over her shoulder. “He asks about me, doesn’t he?”
The vulnerability in her voice nearly broke Marion’s resolve. “Sometimes,” she admitted.
Heather nodded once, then walked away, her steps hurried. Marion watched until she disappeared around the corner, then went back inside, locking the door behind her.
She leaned against it, her legs suddenly too weak to support her. The coffee pot had finished brewing, its rich aroma filling the kitchen, but she couldn’t bring herself to move. All she could think about was Charlie upstairs, blissfully unaware that his mother had been standing just outside.
Her hand trembled as she reached for her phone.
She needed to call her lawyer. And then she needed to call Alfie.
The thought of him steadied her. She needed his strength, his unwavering support.
Last night, he had promised to protect her and Charlie, and now she would need to hold him to that promise.
Because Heather wouldn’t give up easily. She never had.