“Yep. You were saving yourself for marriage, and you gave yourself to me, so you gotta marry me! Ha! We’re gonna beat Derrick and Lucy to the altar,” he said, seeming to find that amusing.
“What are you saying? Who says I’d even have you?” Gwen teased.
“What?”
“You didn’t even propose, Weylin. Now who’s to say some handsome man might not come along and get down on his knees and ask to marry me tomorrow?”
She looked over her shoulder at him, crossing the room as she opened the bathroom door. Poor man had his eyes glued to her ass, but they shot up when he realized what she said. Too bad she was already headed for the shower.
“What? Gwen? GWEN! Open that door, Gwendolyn,” he growled, pounding on the thing.
She turned on the water and started humming over Weylin’s shenanigans. Of course, she was going to marry him. But when she said, not the other way around.
Silly man, thinking he held the strings.
The shower curtain flew back, and Weylin stood there, chest heaving, eyes glittering, and finger raised at eye level.
“Gwendolyn Hoffer, you are my mate and I absolutely forbid you marrying anyone but me!”
“Is that so?” she asked, brows arched as he growled at her. “Then might I suggest you get down on your knees, mate?” she growled, bottom lip between her teeth, as he finally understood what she was suggesting.
“Yes, ma’am,” he growled and slid to the floor, large hands wrapped around her thighs.
Weylin’s green eyes danced with delight as he lifted one, slinging it over his shoulder, and kissed her right on her needy little sex.
“Mine,” he snarled, and Gwendolyn gripped his hair, nodding her head.
Yes, she was his. And tonight, she planned to claim him right back.
Mine.
Epilogue
“Honey, I am home!” Gwendolyn shouted as she entered the cabin she shared with her mate and her husband.
They really had been bad, running off to Atlantic City to get married over the weekend, but that was what they both wanted. It eased something inside her that had held onto her vow for all those years, even though her new Wolf side understood being mated was just as important as being married.
She spent the last couple of hours changing her name at the DMV, and the nearest Social Security office, and all she really wanted was to go for a run with her mate, then dinner, and some celebratory love making under the stars. Not necessarily in that order.
“Weylin?” she tried again, but he wasn’t answering.
Gnawing her lip, she walked to the kitchen table, smiling when she saw a single red rose and folded letter written in his handwriting. The sexy scrawl made her heart flutter, and she sighed like a lovesick teenager when she opened it.
Dear Gwendolyn,
I have a surprise for you. It’s good, I promise. Meet me at the Pack house.
Love always,
Weylin
Gwendolyn crushed the letter to her chest, smiling widely as she grabbed the rose too, dropped her keys and bag, and raced across the lot to the Pack house. Everyone was there, and she frowned, wondering if she missed a Pack meeting.
Something about how she came to be a Dire Wolf Shifter meant her bonds were more solid to Weylin than to anyone else. Still, she scented him among the others, and knew he was inside. But she wasn’t prepared for the sight that met her eyes when she walked inside.
Weylin, sans shirt, was on his knees, head bowed. The entire Pack stood shoulder to shoulder in a circle around him. Only Thor was with him. The bald giant seemed different, as if he wasn’t seeing anything through his impossibly black eyes. At least, nothing she could see.
“What’s going on?” she asked, and Weylin’s head snapped up, his emerald eyes boring into hers.
