“I thought I’d lost you.”
For perhaps the very first time in my life, I didn’t feel the need to drag more words out of him, or add a stream of my own. I only waited.
His hands tightened on either side of my face.
“What you did…charging Nero’s house like that…it was absolutely insane,” he said.
Shoulders sinking, my eyes sank to the planks of my hardwood floor as I prepared myself for the imminent lecture. About how I put myself and him, and pretty much the whole human and paranormal world at risk with my poor life decisions.
“I owe you my life, Hanna,” Abernathy said.
I glanced abruptly up at him, finding his eyes glowing with unshed tears.
“I was in the dark, and you found me. You found me, and I love you. I love you, Hannelore Harvey. Every moment. Every day. Since the first time I saw you. I loved you then. I love you now. I’ll love you always.”
I opened my mouth, but he pressed the pads of his fingers over my lips, effectively ending the possibility of my ruining the moment with a joke.
“Ruith ri mo thaobh.” The syllables sounded silk over stone.
Cocking my head at him, I moved his hand away from my mouth. “Are you sure you didn’t sustain some sort of head injury?” I asked. “Because you are making zero sense right now.”
“It’s Gaelic,” he said, his hand closing over mine and pressing it to his heart.
“What does it mean?” The rushing, primal pulse thundered in my ears with my heart’s every stunned and wondrous beat.
“Run by my side.” His fingers stroked my temples, his gentle grip making it impossible for me to look away.
The image came to me at once and complete. Wolves in a pack, running together. Neither owning or being owned. Free but choosing the same course, each finding a common speed. A common purpose. A common life.
“If this is about protection—” I began.
“It is,” he said. “My protection. I need you, Hanna. You’re everything good, and light and true. You’re my breath, and my life. Be my mate, Hanna. For now and for always, run by my side.”
We stared at each other then, our breaths the only measure of time’s passage in this uncharted space.
“Mark Andrew Abernathy,” I said, reaching up to place my hands over his. “I would run by your side to the very ends of the earth.”
With these words, it was decided.
A thousand times I had imagined what would happen in the moments after I made my choice. A thousand times I had been wrong.
In my imagination, he had been hot, hungry, and demanding.
The man standing before me now looked ready to collapse with relief. Relief, yes, and wonder too. Uncertainty still haunting the edges of a face so hopeful it nearly broke my heart.
“I’m sure,” I said, answering the question writ large on his face.
We had in our history an entire galaxy of kisses. Some tender. Some urgent. Some passionate. Some painful.
This one was different.
Me, tasting him with my already blooming powers. Drowning in the pure, chemical loveliness of him. And his scent. His scent. Like wind. Like earth. Like rain. Like air. Like every single thing on this planet that causes life to be. I drank him in deep greedy gulps with each one of my now heightened senses.
Mouths fused and hands busy, we freed each other from the layers separating our bodies. Him, pulling the tie on my robe and letting it fall from my shoulders. Me, unbuttoning his shirt, his belt, his pants.
We fell to the bed together, skin on skin, writhing and grinding as if every cell in our bodies could merge in perfect fusion.
He left my stinging mouth to drag his lips down my neck, my collarbone, my nipples, stopping to taste every part with quick, feathery flicks of his tongue.
Ready, so much more than ready, my body jerked when his hand slid between my legs. The slippery warmth he found there eliciting a groan as I came violently against his palm.
He brought his hand to his mouth licking his fingers. “Gods, how you taste.” Kneeling before me, he pushed my knees apart, appreciative fingers trailing down the insides of my thighs before gripping my hips. “Please Hanna,” he said, that one word unstitching me at once and forever. “I can’t wait any longer.”
“Don’t,” I panted. “I need to feel you. All of you.”
But he did wait.
He hesitated there, on the threshold that would divide the life I had known from the life I