Chapter 3: Claim

Pain. Sharp. Burning. Claiming. But it is good pain. The second his fangs sink into the delicate skin of my neck, I arch into him, my body instinctively surrendering, my wolf howling in pleasure inside me. The mark is searing, a wound that will never truly fade, a symbol of forever. My mate. Mine. His growl reverberates against my skin as he presses his massive body closer, his tongue sweeping over the fresh bite, soothing the sting while solidifying the bond. It sends a shudder rippling down my spine, something ancient and electric snapping into place between us. The bond. It twines around us, invisible yet unbreakable, sinking into my very bones. I whimper, my body trembling, overwhelmed by the sheer force of it. It feels like a million sensations all at once—heat, desire, longing, completion. I feel him inside me now. Not physically—not yet—but through the bond, through the unshakable, unyielding pull that tethers us together like two halves of a whole that have finally found each other. I swish my tail, happiness swelling inside me. His massive paws cage me in, keeping me pinned beneath him, possessive and dominant. He shifts slightly, pressing his weight into me, his breath hot and heavy against my throat, where his mark still throbs in time with my racing pulse. His intentions are clear. He wants to mount me. To seal the bond in the way wolves do. And my wolf wants it too, the primal part of me begging to let him, to give in completely. But I am not just my wolf. I am human too. And he will know all of me. I take a shaky breath and shift beneath him. My body morphs, fur retreating, skin re-emerging, soft and bare against his heated touch. I push up on my elbows, my breath still uneven, my neck still tingling with the remnants of his bite. And when I open my eyes—he is staring. His massive black wolf is still above me, towering, eyes locked onto me like a predator that has finally caught its prey. But then, in one smooth movement—he shifts. And I forget how to breathe. My mate is beautiful. Unfairly, devastatingly beautiful. Midnight-black hair, unruly and slightly damp from the shift, falling in loose waves across his forehead. His features are sharp, sculpted, high cheekbones and a jawline made to be touched, kissed, claimed. But his eyes—his eyes are still the same. Piercing ice-blue, glowing faintly in the moonlight, sharp and hungry. The rest of him is just as breathtaking. Broad, muscled shoulders. Defined abs. A powerful chest still heaving from the fight, from the claiming, from the overwhelming heat of our bond sinking into his skin. And lower... I swallow hard. He is just as perfect there. Thick, hard, ready. My cheeks flush, heat licking at my skin again, but not from the bond this time. I barely have time to think before he moves. "Hey—" I start, voice breathless, but I don’t get to finish. Because suddenly, his lips are on mine. Firm. Desperate. Consuming. It is not gentle. It is a claim, a possession, a promise. I whimper against him, and he growls in response, his arms wrapping around me like he’s afraid I might disappear. His hands roam, sliding up my bare sides, gripping my waist, pulling me closer, deeper, more. My fingers tangle into his dark hair, pulling, needing him closer, needing all of him. His tongue parts my lips, and I let him in, let him take whatever he wants because I want it too. We have all the time in the world for introductions. Right now, we should definitely do this. I pull him closer, fingers tightening, nails scratching lightly against his scalp, earning me another low, hungry growl. He flips me onto my back, his weight pressing me into the soft grass beneath us, and I welcome it, welcome him. His weight presses into me, solid, warm, unrelenting.I should be afraid.I should feel overwhelmed, drowning in the sheer intensity of the bond, of him. But I don’t. Because this is right. This is exactly how it was meant to be. His lips move against mine, firm and demanding, his body a furnace of heat and muscle, his hands rough but reverent as they trace the curves of my waist. His touch is hungry, desperate—like a starving man who has just found his first meal. And I let him take. Because I want it too. I want him. I pull him closer, fingers tightening in his wild black hair, earning me a deep, satisfied growl that sends a shiver straight through me. His scent is everywhere, filling my lungs, clouding my thoughts, drowning out everything but this moment, this connection, this need. His hands slide lower, gripping my thighs, lifting me just enough so that our bodies align perfectly. The friction sends a wave of pleasure through me, and I whimper against his mouth, arching into him. He breaks the kiss, panting, his lips brushing against my jaw, my neck—my mark. The place where he bit me. The fresh wound is still raw, still tingling with energy, the magic of the mate bond fully settling between us. He leans down, tongue flicking out to soothe the broken skin, and I shudder, gripping his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh."Mine," he growls, his voice deeper, raspier. My wolf purrs in satisfaction, reveling in the possessiveness, in the certainty. "Yours," I whisper back and it feels right,the words settle between us, binding us even tighter.