He knows. He’ll give it to me.
Bast reaches behind me to turn off the shower, then presses his forehead to mine. “Bed,” he growls, his eyes still glowing golden. “Now.” The single word carries so much promise it makes me shiver despite the lingering heat.
He lifts me out of the shower, not bothering with towels. Water drips from our bodies as he carries me toward his bedroom. I never want to be separated again.
The bedroom is a mess of splintered wood and scattered clothes from yesterday morning’s fight. Morning sunlight streams through the window, painting golden streaks across Bast’s skin as he moves. His wolf is close to the surface now; I can see it in the predatory grace of his movements, feel it in the way his hands tighten possessively on my flesh.
Water beads roll down my body, and his eyes track their path with hungry intensity. The bond pulses between us, stronger than ever but still somehow incomplete. Like a lock waiting for its key. Every touch, every breath, brings us closer to something profound and irreversible. I can’t explain it, but I know it’s coming.
My back hits the mattress, and Bast follows me down, his body covering mine like he never wants to let me go. Like he could shield me from everything—my past, theMathairs, the entire world. His weight presses down, centering me. The wet sheets cling to my skin, but I barely notice, too focused on the way his hands slide up my sides, the way his mouth claims mine in a kiss that promises everything.
I hope and I pray he never lets me go.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Bast O’Connor
Soul Deep
Sunlight streams through the bedroom windows, turning droplets of water on Bridget’s skin to diamonds. She’s sprawled beneath me on the wet sheets, dark hair fanned out like spilled ink, and my wolf purrs at the sight.Mine.Finally, completely mine.
Each breath she takes echoes in my chest like a second heartbeat. Each small movement sends ripples of awareness through my heightened senses.
“You’re staring,” she whispers, her lips curving into a smile that makes my heart stutter.
“Can’t help it.” I trace the curve of her cheek, watching how she leans into my touch. My heart races with anticipation—I want to complete the final bond that will tie us together forever. Memories of the fight flash through my mind. Her breaking through impossible wards. Her magick pouring into me, saving my life. Her choosing me over everything she’d ever known.
Part of me worries she might hesitate, might need more time. My wolf knows she’s ready, but the man in me is still holding his breath.
Her hand comes up to cup my face. “What are you thinking about?”
“How you are mine.” The words come out rougher than I intend. “How I’m never going to let you go. How much I want to complete our bond so that when we go get your sister, I will be able to find you no matter what.”
Relief floods through me when her eyes light up. “I want that too.” Her fingers trail down my jaw, sending sparks across my skin. “I can’t imagine feeling more than what I do now, but if there’s more to experience with you… I want it too.”
I lean down to capture her mouth, pouring everything I feel into the kiss. She responds instantly, arching up against me as her fingers tangle in my hair. But this is about more than physical desire. This is about completion. About forever.
“There are ancient words,” I murmur against her skin. “A pledge that will bind us for life.” I trace the line of her jaw, feeling her pulse quicken beneath my touch.
She shivers beneath me, but through our connection, I feel only anticipation, desire, certainty. “Tell me,” she breathes.
I pull back slightly, needing to see her face for this. Her green eyes glow brighter than ever, like emeralds catching sunlight. Her fingers trace the first set of tattoos on one of my wrists.
“Chun tú,”I say softly, watching her lips form the words after me. “It means ‘to you.’”
“Chun tú,”she repeats, the Gaelic flowing naturally from her tongue.
“Geallaim.”I press a kiss to her forehead. “I pledge.”
“Geallaim.”Her voice is stronger now, more certain.
“Mo chroí.”I take her hand, placing it over my heart. “My heart.”
“Mo chroí,”she echoes, her palm warm against my skin.
“Agus anam.”I let my weight settle more fully against her, skin to skin. “And soul.”
“Agus anam.”The words come out breathless as her body arches into mine.
