chapter 113
Tori's POV:
The warmth of Lucas's body radiated through his sleep robe as he pulled me down beside him.
My heart hammered against my ribs, a wild rhythm that surely his heightened Alpha senses could detect.
The light scent of cedar and snow that was uniquely him enveloped me, making my wolf Tracy stir with contentment.
I hesitated, unsure where to place my hands or how close I should allow myself to be. The silk nightgown suddenly felt too thin, too revealing against my skin.
"Your heart is racing, little wolf," Lucas murmured, his eyes never leaving the book in his hands. "Are you afraid of what might happen?"
My throat felt dry as I swallowed.
"No," I whispered, finding courage I didn't know I possessed. "I'm afraid of what I want to happen."
His eyes lifted from the pages then, piercing blue meeting my silver gaze.
"And what is it you want, Tori?" His voice had dropped an octave, rumbling from deep in his chest.
Instead of answering with words, I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his.
The kiss was tentative at first, a question rather than a demand.
For a heartbeat, Lucas remained still, and panic fluttered in my chest. Had I misread the situation? But then his hand came up to cradle the back of my neck, and he returned the kiss with gentle pressure that quickly built to something more urgent.
His other arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer until I was practically in his lap. My wolf howled in approval within me, pushing forward until I could feel her just beneath my skin.
Lucas broke the kiss, his breathing uneven. "Tori," he said, his voice strained with restraint. "We need to be clear about what's happening. Are you certain this is what you want?"
He cupped my face, his expression intensely serious.
"For an Omega, marks are irreversible. If, for any reason, our bond had to be broken later, the process would be excruciating—many Omegas don't survive the removal, and those who do can never accept another mark. I need you to understand what you're agreeing to."
The significance of his words wasn't lost on me.
"I understand," I whispered, tilting my head. "I'm sure."
His eyes searched mine, looking for any hesitation.
His lips trailed down my neck, sending shivers through my body. When he reached the spot where my shoulder began, he paused, his breath warming my skin. Then, with deliberate care, he bit down—not hard enough to break skin, but firmly enough to leave a mark that would last for days.
A bolt of pleasure-pain shot through me, and I gasped, my fingers digging into his shoulders.
The sensation was unlike anything I'd experienced—intense and intimate, connecting us in a way that transcended the physical. I could feel something shift inside me, like pieces of a puzzle finally clicking into place.
Lucas soothed the mark with his tongue before pulling back to look at me, his expression a mixture of possessiveness and tenderness.
"This is only temporary," he explained, his thumb gently brushing over the mark. "It's enough to let others know you're claimed, but not the permanent bond. That will come when you're truly ready."
His eyes held a promise. "Perhaps on our mating ceremony night."
I understood what Lucas was doing—giving me space, offering me a path back if I needed it.
But as I looked into his eyes, I could see the intensity he was holding back, the barely restrained desire that made his pupils dilate and his breathing deepen.
"You're being considerate," I whispered, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "But I can feel how much restraint this is taking."
His body tensed beneath my touch, confirming my words. The air between us seemed to thicken, charged with unspoken possibilities.
"There are other ways I could..." I hesitated, my cheeks warming as I leaned closer to whisper in his ear. The suggestion made his breath catch, his hands tightening reflexively on my waist.
"Tori," he groaned, his control visibly slipping. The moonlight cast shadows across his features, highlighting the sharp angles of his face and the struggle playing out there.
"Are you certain?" he asked, his voice rough with restraint.
My answer was to press closer, the thin silk of my nightgown doing little to separate us. "I want to be close to you," I breathed against his skin. "In every way we can be."
His eyes, now more wolf than human, locked with mine. With deliberate slowness, he took my hand and pressed it over his below.
"Feel what you do to me," he murmured, his voice dropping to a register I hadn't heard before—primal, possessive.
The air around us seemed to vibrate with tension. My skin felt hypersensitive, every point where Lucas touched me burning like gentle fire.
His lips found my newly marked neck again, tracing a path that made me shiver and arch against him.
The cedar and snow scent that was uniquely him intensified, wrapping around me like an invisible claim. My fingers threaded through his hair, holding him closer as a soft sound escaped my throat.
"The things I want to do with you," he whispered against my skin, "the ways I want to worship every inch of you..."
Words gave way to sensation as he gathered me in his arms, laying me back against the pillows with a gentleness that contrasted with the barely leashed power in his movements.
The moonlight painted silver patterns across our entwined figures, casting the room in an otherworldly glow that seemed fitting for such a moment.
Time slowed, then quickened.
Whispered endearments mixed with sounds of pleasure. The boundaries between us—physical, emotional, spiritual—blurred until I couldn't tell where I ended and he began.
Through it all, Lucas remained attentive, his eyes never leaving mine, always seeking confirmation, always ensuring my comfort.
Later, as we lay tangled in sheets with the moon high overhead, Lucas traced lazy patterns on my bare shoulder. The temporary mark he'd placed throbbed gently, a pleasant reminder of our connection.
His heartbeat beneath my ear had slowed to a steady rhythm, comforting and strong.
"Sleep now, little wolf," Lucas murmured, pulling the covers over us. "I've got you."
And for the first time in longer than I could remember, I felt completely safe, completely whole—like I'd finally found the place where I truly belonged.