The bond pulses between us, stronger with each passing moment. I feel everything—his love, his need, his absolute certainty that this is right. That we are right. His heart thunders against my chest, matching my own racing pulse beat for beat.
Pleasure builds between us like a rising tide. Every touch, every kiss, every thrust. His name becomes a chant on my lips as we chase that perfect high together.
Then the world continues to dissolve into pure sensation—his skin against mine, his breath on my neck, the way our magick tangles and twines. We are one. Nothing exists outside this moment, this connection, this perfect fusion of wolf and witch.
When the pleasure finally crests, the bond flares impossibly brighter, and suddenly I’m flying, falling, drowning. His name tears from my throat. Then his release crashes over him, amplifying mine until I’m sure I’ll physically shatter from the intensity.
His arms tighten around me as aftershocks ripple through us both. Our magick settles around us like a warm blanket, humming with contentment. He’s my anchor, keeping me from floating away on this tide of emotion.
“I love you,” he murmurs against my throat, pressing soft kisses to sweat-dampened skin.
“I love you too.” My fingers trace lazy patterns on his back as our breathing slowly returns to normal. The afternoon sun paints shadows across his skin, and I marvel at how perfect this feels. How right.
He shifts to lie beside me, gathering me close against his chest. The steady thump of his heart beneath my ear makes my eyes grow heavy. Exhaustion from everything today finally catches up, but I fight it, not wanting to lose this perfect moment.
“Sleep,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to my hair. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Safe in his arms, surrounded by his warmth and love, I finally let my eyes drift closed.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Bridget Winslow
Shattered Peace
The binding spell slams into place before I’m fully awake, sealing my lips with a familiar punishment spell. My eyes snap open to darkness, heart hammering against my ribs.Delta Team.
Terror claws up my throat, threatening to choke me. They shouldn’t be here yet. We should’ve had more time. I’m not ready. We’re not ready. Oh God, Brianna.
Bast sleeps beside me, his arm heavy across my waist, completely unaware of the two shadows looming over the bed. His chest rises and falls in the slow rhythm of deep sleep. I feel his contentment, his trust in the safety of his home through me like it’s my own. The same trust that made me let my guard down. The same trust that’s going to get him killed.
Tears burn behind my eyes. I should have known better. Should have set wards. Traps.Anything.But I got distracted. Let myself believe in happy endings like some foolish child. Just like Brianna did.
“Hello, little miss.” I recognize the voice instantly, and my blood turns to ice. Mira. Leader of Delta Team. Executioner of the Salem Court’s will. Her whisper carries across the room, softas a snake in grass. “One wrong move and the man dies. Nod if you understand.”
My fingers clench in the sheets as I give a sharp nod, bile rising in my throat. The memory of the last time I saw Mira work floods my mind—a witch who broke the rules, screaming as Mira slowly, methodically broke her.
I carefully keep my emotions neutral, desperate not to wake Bast. If he wakes, if he tries to fight them… Delta Team doesn’t leave witnesses. And they don’t know he’s a wolf. They just think he’s a man.
This situation would be infinitely worse if they knewwhathe is. TheMathairswould lose their minds if they knew there were wolves all through these mountains. They’d torture him for information first, then make me watch as they—no. I can’t think about that. Can’t let those thoughts leak through our bond.
“Good girl.” Mira’s smile gleams in the darkness, the same smile she wore when she executed that rogue witch in front of us during training. “Now, very carefully, slide out of bed. Hands where I can see them.”
Another figure moves closer. She’s short, stocky and brutal—Nia. I know what she’s capable of. I’ve seen her stop a person’s heart with a single word, watched them collapse mid-stride, eyes still open in surprise. One spell from her and Bast would never wake up.
I ease away from him, mourning the loss of his warmth. His arm slides off my waist as I move, and he shifts slightly. My heart nearly stops, but he just burrows deeper into the pillow. Relief makes me dizzy.
Just a little longer. Just stay asleep a little longer.
“That’s it,” Mira coos, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “Nice and slow.”
The floor is cold against my bare feet as I stand. Leftover splinters from the broken door scrape my soles. Each tiny painfeels like a goodbye. This might be the last time I feel anything in this cabin. The last time I see him.
The third shadow in the room resolves into Carmen’s lithe form. Her hands and low voice weave a complex pattern, and binding spells settle over me like heavy chains. My arms pull behind my back of their own accord, wrists crossing in a painful position I’ve been forced into before. That’s Carmen’s specialty—pain. She likes to hurt people.
TheMathairsdon’t want me dead. I failed them. I killed Elsa and they want to make an example of me.
Bast shifts slightly, making the mattress creak. My heart races.Please stay asleep. Please.I can’t bear to watch them hurt him. Can’t bear to lose him. I couldn’t survive watching them break him.
