Series: Star Moon Pack Series by J.L. Beck
Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 118781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 594(@200wpm)___ 475(@250wpm)___ 396(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 594(@200wpm)___ 475(@250wpm)___ 396(@300wpm)
And my wolf is pleased, her howls ringing in my head. Celebration. Finally.
The bed shakes—or is that us? I can’t tell. The world is spinning faster, and I hear howling coming from somewhere. Inside me, I realize. Everything around me goes bright, but the brightness soon settles into a warm, comfortable haze, and I give myself over to it.
When I come back to my senses, we’re in each other’s arms. The entire world looks different now—I know it shouldn’t, not really, it was a simple bite, but it was everything, too. I’m here. I’m home.
What’s even better than my satisfaction is knowing he’s satisfied. His wolf is peaceful, the way mine is. There’s nothing in the world for us to want when we have everything here, in this moment. I close my eyes and snuggle closer to him.
“Are you doing all right?” It’s the first thing he’s said since we finished, and his voice is soft and gentle.
“I should be asking you.”
“That was just as big a deal for you as it was for me.” He lifts his wrist, and we both study my mark, and now I wish I could have looked at the one he gave me. I don’t know why. It doesn’t seem like it should matter. It’s not as if I was exactly thrilled at the time about him giving it to me, though.
“I hope you don’t regret wanting me to do that,” I whisper.
“Never. I never will.”
My eyes slide shut again, and I’m glad to feel sleep beginning to pull me under. It might be cheesy, but falling asleep wrapped in his arms would be the perfect ending to this.
Naturally, that’s the perfect time for Forrest to come barging into the room unannounced without so much as a knock on the door to warn us.
“What the fuck?” Wilde blurts out. We scramble around, grabbing the sheets, and I bunch them around my chest as I sit up. This ass. Of all times. And why would he not be wearing a knowing little smirk? He would go and taint this, wouldn’t he?
“Oh, damn it. I missed the good part.”
I don’t think I’ll ever get over how open these two are when it comes to mating, but somehow, it doesn’t affect me the way it might have before. I’m not angry or bitter or anything like that. I can even laugh about it, at least dryly.
He sniffs the air, frowns, then looks at Wilde. A wave of information hits him all at once, and I watch him process it before he grins. “Finally, you marked him.” He gives me a thumbs-up and everything.
“Don’t even think about asking to share her,” Wilde warns with a growl.
“I wouldn’t think about it,” Forrest assures him, and I believe him. Certain things they don’t joke about. Certain things are serious, even sacred. This is one of them.
I am one of them. Am I dreaming? If so, I hope I never wake up.
Just as suddenly as he entered, his grin turns to a concerned frown. “Anyway, that’s not what I came up here for. You might want to put some clothes on, both of you. Fast.”
“What is it?” Wilde sits up, already on his way out of bed. “Are they—”
“It’s not an attack,” Forrest is quick to assure us. “But it does involve the necromancers. They sent an emissary—and they’re on their way as we speak.”
“You should’ve led off with that part!” Wilde barks, shaking his head at his brother as we both hastily pull ourselves together.
An emissary from the necromancers? “What could this mean? Do you think they want to make peace?”
“Sure, now that we’ve kicked their asses so many times.” Even so, I don’t miss the quick glance they exchange. If I didn’t know better, I’d say they’re keeping something from me. That’s the kind of look people give each other when they don’t want to say too much.
“What aren’t you telling me?” I ask once I’ve pulled a shirt over my head.
“We can talk about it later,” Wilde insists with what I guess is supposed to pass for a confident smile. It looks more like the beginnings of a scream. “We have to get ready. Come on, Dad will want to brief us before the meeting starts.”
The house is in an uproar by the time we reach the first floor, with guards running in all directions. Raised voices carry from the war room. My dad’s voice is one of them, but for once, he’s not arguing with the alpha. They’re both under strain, concerned, and who could blame them? I’m pretty damn concerned myself.
I should be in bed with my marked mate. We should be alone together, focusing on each other. On what we mean to each other now. If I didn’t already have enough of a reason to hate the witches and their stupid war, this would do it.