Chapter 26 Scars and All
Wynter‘s POV
This time he didn't stop me as I undid his belt and jeans. When the fabric finally fell away, I found myself staring.
I'd felt him before during those fevered nights—but I'd never really looked. Never been clearheaded enough. Now, with my mind unclouded, I could finally see.
He was hard and thick, flushed with arousal, and the sight made my core clench with want that had nothing to do with biology and everything to do with choice.
Our mate, my wolf purred. Perfect.
"This is different," I whispered. "Seeing you like this. I never was clearheaded enough before."
"I know. I can feel it through the connection. You're really choosing this."
He reached for the nightstand, pulling out a condom, and rolled it on. Then he settled back between my thighs, and I felt him pressing against my entrance.
"Look at me," he said softly. "Stay with me. I want you here. Fully here."
I met his gaze as he began to push forward. The stretch was intense, and I felt every inch as he slowly filled me.
Yes, my wolf sighed. This is what we needed.
"Breathe, love," he murmured, pausing halfway. "You're doing so well."
Through the connection, I could feel his restraint, how much his wolf wanted to just thrust forward. But he was holding back, giving me time.
I forced myself to relax, and he pushed forward again. Slowly. Carefully. Until finally, he was fully seated inside me, and we both groaned.
"Fuck," he breathed, his forehead pressed to mine. "You feel incredible. And knowing you're actually here with me—that you're choosing this—"
"This is what it's supposed to feel like," I realized aloud as he began to move slowly. "Without the fever. Without the desperation. Just us."
"Our choice," he agreed, his voice rough with emotion. "Finally."
His thrusts became deeper, more purposeful.
His hands were everywhere, and through the connection, I could feel everything he was feeling—his physical pleasure, his emotional satisfaction, his wolf's triumph.
I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. "Harder," I gasped. "Please, Chase."
"I know what you need," he growled, his eyes flashing gold. "My wolf knows. You want to be claimed. Properly."
His thrusts became faster, deeper, more powerful, and I cried out with each one. My wolf was howling inside me, and through the connection, I could hear his wolf's answering roar.
His mouth found my neck, kissing and sucking at the sensitive skin, and when his lips brushed over my Mark, we both froze for a moment.
His lips stilled against my skin. I felt him go completely motionless, and I knew—he'd found it. The twisted scar tissue where Marcus had destroyed my Mark.
The scar, my wolf whimpered.
"Chase—" I started, shame flooding through me, my hand instinctively moving to cover it.
"Don't." His voice was rough as he caught my wrist gently. "Don't apologize. Don't hide from me."
His fingers traced the raised edges with devastating gentleness. Through the connection, I could feel his emotions—shock giving way to rage, rage giving way to something tender and fierce and protective.
He doesn't care, my wolf realized with wonder. His wolf doesn't care that we're scarred.
"Even scarred," Chase whispered, pressing a kiss to the damaged skin, "it's beautiful. Because it's yours. Because it means you survived."
Through the connection, I felt his wolf's fierce agreement. Ours. Damaged or perfect. Still ours.
"It's ugly," I choked out. "Ruined. My wolf—she's ashamed—"
"No." He kissed it again. "It's proof that you're stronger than anything they tried to do to you. My wolf doesn't care about perfect. He cares about you. About your wolf. You're ours. You've always been ours."
He means it, my wolf realized, her shame melting away.
His words broke something open in my chest. I turned my face into the pillow, trying to muffle my sob, but he wouldn't let me hide. He gathered me close, still buried deep inside me, and just held me while I cried.
"Does it hurt?" he asked when I'd calmed, his hand cupping the back of my neck.
"Sometimes. When emotions run high. But Dr. Reeves says the function is coming back."
"Good. But Wynter—even if it never healed, it would still be beautiful to me. To my wolf. Because it's part of you."
I couldn't speak. Could only nod, feeling his love bleeding through the connection.
"I'm going to make her pay," he said quietly. "Anne. For what she did to you. I swear it."
"I know. But not tonight. Tonight is just us."
"Just us," he agreed, and I felt him begin to move again inside me.
He shifted our angle slightly, and suddenly every thrust was hitting that perfect spot. The pleasure built impossibly high, and through the connection, I could feel his pleasure building too.
"I'm close," I gasped. "Chase, I'm—"
"Me too." His rhythm became erratic. "Come with me, love. Let me feel you. Really feel you."
His hand slipped between us, fingers finding that bundle of nerves, and I came apart with a cry. My wolf howled with triumph, and through the connection, I felt his orgasm hit him a moment later.
We are his, my wolf sighed. And he is ours. Finally.
We collapsed together, both gasping. For a long moment, we just lay there, the connection humming between us with satisfaction and completion.
"That was perfect," he said, carefully pulling out and disposing of the condom before gathering me close. "And you were here. Really here."
"I remember all of it," I whispered, tears streaming down my face. "Every moment. I actually remember this time."
"Good. Because I want you to remember what it's like when we come together because we choose to."
---
We made love again later—slower, more tender, and when we finally fell asleep tangled together, I felt more complete than I ever had before.
I woke sometime later to moonlight and Chase's arm around my waist. For a moment I just lay there, savoring the warmth.
Then reality crashed back in. What had I done? I'd given myself completely to Chase—the heir to the Pack I blamed for my father's death. His father thought I was worthless. And somewhere out there, Anne was still free, still dangerous.
No, my wolf growled. We did the right thing. We chose our mate.
"Hey." Chase's voice startled me. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Just thinking."
"About?" His arm tightened around me.
"Everything. Your father. My father's death. Anne. All the reasons this is impossible."
He propped himself up to look at me. "I know you think my family killed your father. But I need you to believe me when I say we didn't. I'm going to investigate. I'll find out what really happened."
"What if you're wrong? What if you find out it really was your family?"
"Then I'll stand with you against them," he said without hesitation. "I swear it on my life, on our connection. I will not let your father's death go unpunished, no matter who's responsible."
Tears spilled down my cheeks. "You can't promise that."
"I can. And I do. Can you try to trust me? Please, Wynter. Just give me a chance to prove we're not your enemies."
My wolf surged forward. Trust him. Trust his wolf. They would never hurt us.
"My wolf says to trust you," I whispered.
"Then trust us." He kissed me softly. "Trust what we feel for you."
"Your father doesn't approve, does he?" I asked quietly.
Something flickered across his face. "No. He said some things about you that I won't repeat. About your Mark, your status. He thinks I'm throwing away my future. He threatened to disown me if I chose you over the Pack."
"He's right, isn't he? If you lose your position, Anne would—"
"Anne won't touch you. I will protect you. With or without the Sterling name."
"But how? If your father cuts you off—"
"Then we'll figure something else out. I'm choosing you. My wolf is choosing your wolf. Over everything. And yeah, I'm scared. But I'm more scared of losing you."
"I'm falling in love with you," I admitted. "Both of me. We're falling, and we don't know how to stop."