Chapter Five

THREE YEARS AGO

The wedding date had been set.

Niklath said it as though it were fact, not a decision.

“In exactly one month,” he murmured, his voice low and rich in my ear. “The moon will be full… the clan will be ready. You’ll wear white if you want to, but the marking is what matters.”

We were still tangled in sheets, the sky outside his penthouse windows just starting to lighten. His hand rested on the curve of my hip, warm and possessive. The heat between my thighs still pulsed with aftershocks. My skin was slick, legs aching, breath uneven. He had taken me hours ago and never really stopped. Not fully. Not completely.

I turned my head slightly, meeting the heat of his gaze.

“Father said there will be two ceremonies.” I said gazing into his eyes. It had only been a week and I was already hopelessly in love with him. Being part of this world was still new to me.

“Of course,” he answered, brushing his lips along my collarbone. “One for the clan. One for the humans. Two vows. One bond.”

He spoke about it like he already saw it unfolding. The werewolf ceremony would be held at his ancestral grounds, high in the Velbeck Mountains, where the air thinned and the sky seemed to touch the earth. That part of Switzerland was old, steeped in laws that predated any constitution. The marking would be done there, in front of his people.

“It won’t hurt for long,” he promised, his eyes flicking to my hand. “Just a bite. Here.”

He lifted my left hand and brought the pad of his thumb to trace the base of my ring finger.

“The flesh will seal within a day. And when it does… it will leave a mark that tells my clan you are mine.”

“What does it look like?” I whispered.

“A silver arc in the shape of the mountain crest,” he said, his eyes glowing with a flicker of pride. “And within it… a small wolf. Head tilted back. Eyes glowing blue.”

He showed me then what I had already seen several times but had not understood. He pulled back the sheet, exposing his chest, and tilted slightly so I could see the ink stretched across the right side of his pectoral muscle. The wolf stared outward, its fur done in fine black ink, its eyes the same blazing blue as Niklath’s own. Around the tattoo, the faint glint of silver shimmered, metallic and alive, like the ink itself had been forged from something more than pigment.

And beneath that, carved across the top of his left bicep, was a thick armband tattooed in bold, sweeping lines. It looked ancient. Feral. Majestic. It was not a simple pattern. It was a ring of wolves, etched in a way that made them seem in motion… heads raised, paws braced, as if they circled him in permanent protection. Between them, mountain peaks and waves wove together in a continuous knot.

“I was marked the day I took the Alpha oath,” he said, his voice lower now. “This one…” he pointed to the armband, “…is for protection. For territory. For legacy. But the one I give you…” He traced my ring finger again, “that one is for blood. And bond.”

His words did something to me. Stirred something molten and ancient beneath the surface of my skin.

“So the second ceremony,” I said, my voice breathier now as he moved closer again, lips brushing my jaw, “is the formal wedding… for the investors, the board members, the clients who need to see this as an alliance.”

He nodded against my neck. “A white wedding. Music. Food. A mountain of contracts signed with champagne and cameras.”

“Father said it will be held at his estate,” I said, fingers threading through his hair. “In the garden.”

“The announcement will name the merger,” he said, his breath warming my collarbone again.

“Moreaux-Varyn Maritime.”

A single company, unified beneath the names of two dynasties. Shipping routes across both human and supernatural borders. A powerhouse.

And all of it underwritten by this bed… these hands… this impossible man who within a week had shown me such passion, who had claimed me every night like love was a word far too fragile for what lived between us.

His lips grazed the inside of my wrist. I felt my stomach tighten as his hand slid over my thigh again, coaxing me even closer than we already were with the ease of someone who already knew I couldn’t resist him.

“I’m still sore,” I breathed.

“Then I’ll be gentle,” he said, but his eyes said otherwise.

And he never waited long.

He kissed me again. Fully this time. His mouth dragged over mine with the same promise he’d made on the night we met… that he would ruin me in ways I would never recover from. His body moved over mine, heavy and certain, and I could feel how hard he already was. He kissed down my breasts with his tongue swirling over the same path he’d taken hours ago, and I shivered as his mouth closed around my nipple again, suckling it until I cried out and arched into him.

He didn’t rush. He took his time. He watched me like I was art… something rare… something carved for him alone. His lips were soft where his hands were not. His grip on my thighs was bruising. He pushed my legs apart with a single hand and settled between them like a man who had every right to.

And when he entered me again, slow but deep, I gasped.

He filled me fully. Completely. Each stroke deliberate. His mouth caught my moans as he kissed me again, deeper, tongue dragging over mine until I was shaking under him. His abs flexed, taut and carved, the wolf tattoo on his chest brushing against my skin as he moved harder, faster. I dug my nails into his shoulders, felt the muscle shift beneath my fingertips, and then he grabbed both my wrists and pinned them above my head.

“I can’t stay away from you,” he groaned, his voice like velvet on fire. “You make me want to lose control every time.”

And then he growled deeply…

I let go and gave in to the passion.

By the time we finished, I could barely remember my own name.

The sun was creeping higher over the Thornvale skyline, bathing the bedroom in gold. I lay with my head on his chest, heart still racing, his fingers gently stroking my shoulder. His scent wrapped around me. That pine, wintery air scent, and his body heat. I knew there would be no undoing this bond.

The morning air in Thornvale carried a crispness that wrapped itself around the mountains and slid between our skin like silk. The sky above us was pale, painted in quiet hues of soft blue and gold, the sun still shy behind the mist. We sat on the balcony wrapped in thick wool throws, the scent of roasted coffee and morning pine swirling between us. The city below was stirring. Niklath’s estate perched on the highest ridge, with its sharp, black stoned terraces and huge windows that watched the world like a silent sentinel.

I sat cross legged in one of the lounge chairs, his shirt draped loosely around my body, still unbuttoned halfway. My skin still tingled in the places he had worshipped the night before… and again just before the sunrise. The plate in front of me was untouched. Toast. Fresh berries. Soft cheese from the valley.

He, on the other hand, was already sipping his second cup of black coffee. Shirtless. His legs stretched out, the morning light falling over the muscles carved along his chest and arms. The wolf tattoo on his right pec glinted faintly. The blue eyes of the inked beast caught the light and made my stomach tighten. That same wild blue pulsed within the man himself, just beneath the surface, always flickering, always watching.

We were quiet. It wasn’t an awkward silence. Just the kind that stretches comfortably between people who already know what the other is thinking.

I turned to him, resting my coffee on the low stone table, and asked the question that had quietly curled at the edge of my thoughts since last night.

“What about children?” I asked softly. “How does it work… with me being human?”

His eyes did that thing again. The flickering. Blue, then something darker, then brighter. As if the question stirred something more primal than words could answer.

He didn’t respond immediately.

Instead, he reached for my hand. Lifted it gently. Turned it palm up and brought it to his lips. The kiss he gave wasn’t rushed or teasing. It was slow. Intimate. His mouth warm against the soft skin at the base of my thumb, the same place he’d once bitten.

The effect was instant.

My body reacted before my thoughts did. A quiet throb pulsed low in my belly, this ache reminded me I hadn’t yet gone an hour without wanting him. I closed my eyes for a second, steadying my breath. There were still things I didn’t understand about this world… about his world… but I couldn’t ignore the way my body responded to him. It was too early to tell what we were becoming, but it didn’t feel temporary. It felt carved into something deeper than decision.

“Your body will be able to handle it,” he said at last, voice smooth and deep. “It usually takes six to seven months. A pup grows quickly. Our physiology demands it.”

“And me?” I asked.

His thumb brushed the inside of my wrist. “Whenever you’re ready… our medical team will guide you through everything. The blood work. The tracking. The shifting tolerance tests. You’ll be protected. No decision will ever be rushed.”

“And if I never want one?”