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Jax

S taring at Dakota, I couldn’t breathe.

Had he just?—

Was that magic?

His hand lingered in the air, and I could practically feel the thrum of his power dancing around us.

I felt Jillian’s eyes on me.

But me? All I could do was stare at Prudence, breathlessly waiting for her answer.

She was beaming at Dakota like he was her very own son. Like he’d just performed a godsdamned miracle.

He had .

“Can’t say anything like this has happened in my lifetime,” she said. “A shifter and a mage? Aren’t you just full of surprises?”

He was still a mage.

I hadn’t taken a damn thing from him with my bite. He still had his magic, and now?—

Ours , my wolf preened.

Dakota felt it too. His eyes met mine, and he bit his lip. I could feel the elation, pure victory, rippling between us.

A smile spread on my face, despite myself. Broad and full and in less than a second, I’d crossed the space between us.

Before I even reached him, Dakota pressed up on his toes and stretched out his arms, and it was so simple to bend down and slide in right where he wanted me.

My lips closed over his, and his mouth parted so sweetly beneath mine. His breath hitched. His arms tightened around my neck.

He stood so much on his toes that his weight fell into me, and moon above, there was nowhere I’d rather be. His fingers spread, scratching through my hair at the nape of my neck.

It was the best feeling in the world.

Not just kissing him, or having him there in my arms when only the night before, I’d thought I lost him. No, the best part was the bond that’d formed between us. I could feel him, and for the first time, I let myself fall into the sensation of his wholeness.

He was there, in my arms, and so fucking perfect.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered against his lips.

I’d never wanted to see him hurt. I didn’t know if I was apologizing for letting him get injured, biting him, or even waiting so long to make him my mate.

It’d only been a handful of weeks, and even that amount of time felt way too long now that I knew what it was to feel him in my head.

Before Jiro had come, I’d been willing to stay with Dakota even if he was never my mate. I could’ve given up this , and I never would’ve known.

It would’ve been fine. Even without the bond, he was worth it.

But this was perfect .

Dakota shook his head. His hands slipped down, and his fingertips left a warm, pleasant trail over my skin until he cupped both my cheeks. My stubbled beard bent under his palms.

“You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for,” he said thickly.

Tears hung in his black lashes, glittering as the last few hours fell over him. Everything I’d almost lost, and Dakota had risked so much more.

I wanted to tear Igarashi Jiro limb from fucking limb.

He’d taken Dakota’s life, his family, a future he might’ve had.

And no fucking way was I surrendering the one he could build here, now, with us. He was pack and magic and miracle all wrapped up in one, and it didn’t matter that half a dozen people were in there, waiting for some kind of answer about what was happening. I kissed him again, reveling in the sweetness of his every breath.

Even when we broke the kiss, I couldn’t pull away from him. I shut my eyes and tipped my forehead against his.

“I chose you,” he whispered into the space between us. “I’d choose you again. This feels...”

He reached up and traced my bottom lip with his fingertips.

He didn’t have to say another word. I knew how it felt. The mating bond was as much a revelation to me as it was to him.

The rest? Being a wolf... Okay, maybe he was more overcome than me, but I was never going to let him face it on his own. Not now.

“I know,” I whispered back.

He shook his head, like I couldn’t possibly understand, even when I felt it now. He wanted this.

“I’d pick this over magic,” he confirmed. “I’d pick this over anything. I fucking love you, so no more torturing yourself, jerk.”

“I love you too,” I said. My heart flipped over in my chest.

“He’s... both? That’s impossible,” Minori was gasping behind us. “He can’t be?—”

Was she upset, or simply shocked? When I glanced at her, I couldn’t tell beyond the paleness of her face.

“Darling,” Prudence said, “you’ve not been around long enough to know what is and isn’t possible.”

She reached into her quilt bag and pulled out a book. It was old, bound in faded leather, the pages yellowed.

Dakota stepped back from me just enough to look at her, but even then, his arm stayed looped around my hips, his head on my shoulder.

Prudence offered the book to him. “It’s from my collection. When I heard what happened, I hoped...”

Her smile trembled. I wouldn’t have been the only one lost if Dakota had died, but I’d never seen Prudence’s emotions riding so close to the surface.

Dakota took the book. His brow puckered. “Tales of the Witchwolf?”

“An old legend about a mage who was bitten and kept her magic. No one in my family ever put much stock in it, but you—you prove it true.”

Dakota bit his lip, his fingers tightening on the book. “Thank you.”

Prudence nodded, patting his hand fondly.

Then, she rounded on Minori. “Crescent will be making no restitution, young lady. You can deal with your own family drama. Dakota is ours.”

Ours , my wolf echoed.

I dragged him in again and kissed his temple as he turned the book over in his hands.