always.”
The old healer arches a gray brow. “Don’t sell your shit short, Luna,” she barks, though her face is the picture of calm contentment as she continues to rock on her swing overlooking the lake. “You gave me a hell of a boost.”
I give a little smile, shaking my head at her. “Fine,” I relent grudgingly. “I helped. A little. Ash and her pup are healthy and resting.”
When I’m not helping to merge the two packs together, making sure everyone feels like they have a place and a purpose, settling disputes, or generally watching over everything, I also help Vorria. Ever since I was able to use it to help Harlan and Hess, the crass healer has been having me practice to draw out my spark more and more.
Admittedly, I can’t do very much. But...the magic, as small as it may be, makes me feel closer to my mom. It makes my grief for her a little sweeter and a little less bitter, like she left a piece of her with me.
“My spark is getting easier to use,” I tell my mate. “And I can use it for longer.”
Tyran wraps a hand around my jaw, his brown eyes glinting. “You’re a fierce warrior and a gentle healer. Perfect fucking mate,” he murmurs, lips skimming against mine.
I nip his bottom lip, enjoying the heat that banks in his eyes from that tiny gesture. “Right back at you,” I say, before kissing him deeper, pressing my body right up against his.
He lets out a groan and pulls back with a shake of his head. “Alright, gotta fuck you now.”
“Tyran!” My eyes bug out at his declaration that was way too loud, but he simply pulls me away by the hand, not caring who hears or sees. “I was going to go swimming,” I grouse.
He looks over at me as he leads me toward the pack houses. “If my mate wants to go swimming, then we’ll go swimming.”
Butterflies take off in my stomach as Tyran changes trajectory and heads for the woods, taking me up a narrow path.
As we get deeper into the woods, my eyes land on a familiar sight.
Our cave. He brought me back to where it all started.
This is where our wolves came together. Where he chased and I dodged, where we ran together, tested each other, fought each other, took in every movement, sight, and smell, before ending up right here.
My wolf latched onto his scent that night, and she’s never let go. It took me a little bit to catch up with what she already knew during that claiming hunt. That Tyran is our match in every way. He’s the monster to my rabid, the anchor to my spiral.
The perfect fucking mate.
My eyes latch onto the mouth of the cave, the shadowed entrance of the shallow space somehow still smelling like us. So much has changed since he sunk his teeth into my shoulders and claimed me. Even then, before we knew each other, he grounded me. Looked me in the eye and didn’t recoil at what he saw. From the very beginning, he accepted everything about us.
Tyran looks at me over his shoulder, curiosity in his face. “I’m picking up some very interesting things through the bond right now.”
Despite my attempt to tamp it down, a blush reaches up and pinches my cheeks. “Oh yeah?” I ask airily. “My wolf must still be happy over that squirrel she caught earlier.”
He sends me an amused look, looking so damn sexy with his chiseled body and his gorgeous smile, it’s almost impossible not to stare. “Right,” he taunts, “because your wolf is always feeling very loving toward whatever she viciously hunts.”
“Uh, yeah.” My heartbeat goes double time.
Loving.
Is that what he was picking up from the bond?
Tyran suddenly turns and picks me up by my ass, my thighs wrapping around him immediately. “How loving, exactly?” he asks, his brown gaze boring into me.
It’s no secret how well matched we are in every way, how well connected. But this is the first time the word love has come up. It’s just something that’s there, grown into our mating bond. Something I know we both feel, maybe even deeper than the word itself.
“Completely and intrinsically,” I answer without hesitation, my hands curled around the twin claiming marks on both of his shoulders.
Happiness pours through the bond, and he groans, either because of my admission or my possessive touch on his sensitive marks. “How set are you on this whole swimming thing? Because