Chapter 139 WHAT IS LOVE?

Chapter 139 WHAT IS LOVE?
MERRIELYNN.

I was sitting cross-legged in bed, slowly turning the pages of a massive photo album Cormac had dug out from the back of his closet.
Every page was packed with photos from three years ago. Me and Cormac with our arms around each other. Lorelai making ridiculous faces at the camera, her tongue sticking out or her eyes crossed. Valtor with his arm slung over Cormac’s shoulders, both of them grinning like idiots. All four of us crammed into frame, young and stupid and completely unaware that everything was about to shatter.
I traced my finger over one photo where Lorelai and I were caught mid-laugh, our heads thrown back. I couldn’t remember what had been so funny. Couldn’t remember what we’d been doing that day or where we’d been going. But we looked so happy it made my chest ache.
Cormac’s voice filtered in from somewhere else in the house, laced with frustration.
He was on yet another phone call, his tone clipped as he spoke to whoever was unfortunate enough to be on the receiving end.
I’d lost count of how many calls he’dmadesince this morning.
The outside world wasn’t going to pause just because we needed it to. It was still turning, still demanding explanations and answers and action.
I tried not to think about the photos Valtor had released during the auction. Cormac had handled it this morning. He’d called the school, explained they were fabricated, sent proof, and threatened to involve his family if they didn’t issue an immediate retraction of mine and the teacher’s penalty.
It was a bluff.
His family wouldn’t help me out of this situation, but Pinnthorpe didn’t know that.
His voice had been ice cold on that call. I’d heard every word of it from where I’d been sitting in the kitchen.
Now he was dealing with everything else. Valtor’s death. How to explain what happened in that cave. What to tell Valtor’s parents.
And then there was the other thing.
King Killian.
Cormac’s father, who had worked with Valtor to orchestrate my death.
We were both avoiding that conversation. Dancing around it like if we didn’t acknowledge it out loud, maybe it wouldn’t be real.
At least I was.
Cormac wasn’t.
Something told me, from the moment we left that cave, that was all he’d been able to think about.
The bedroom door opened and Cormac walked back in. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. Dark circles shadowed his eyes and his jaw was so tight.
He climbed into bed beside me without saying a word. He just stretched out on his side and laid there, silent, while I kept flipping through the album.
I could feel his eyes on me after a minute.
I turned another page, pretending I didn’t notice even though every nerve in my body was hyperaware of him watching.
Then he moved closer. His lips pressed against the side of my neck softly. His hand slid around my waist and up my back, his palm spreading warmth everywhere it touched.
I gave in without even trying to resist.
I let the photo album fall closed beside me and turned toward him. His mouth found mine andI moulded my lips to his slowly, taking our time, like nothing else in the world mattered except this.
And we both knew that wasn’t true.
But it felt good to lie to ourselves that it was.
His hands moved over me with this careful reverence that made my heart squeeze. My fingers traced the sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his shoulder, we got lost in each other for a while.
Then I pulled back just enough to look at him properly.
"You should mark me,” I whispered.
Cormac went completely still. His eyes searched mine like he was trying to figure out if I actually meant it.
“Are you sure?” His voice came out rough, but his eyes blazed green.
He couldn’t even hide it.
The absolute elation ghosting across his face. “It’s a big step, Merrielynn.”
I held his gaze, “Are you scared?”
“Of forever with you?” He swallowed thickly, and then he said, “It’s my greatest wish, Merrielynn.”
I nodded. ”Then I’m sure.”
I pulled my hair over to one side, tilting my neck for him.
Marking wasn’t something you did casually.
We were fated mates, but this made it permanent.
A claim that every other wolf would be able to see and smell on me.
It meant I was his and he was mine in a way that couldn’t be erased or undone.
“Go ahead,” I breathed.
He let out a shaky breath. Then he leaned in and kissed me again. This kiss was sweet, and tender and felt like a vow.
When he pulled back, his eyes were bright with emotion.
Then his mouth traveled down from my lips. He kissed along my jaw, down the column of my throat, until he reached the spot where my neck curved into my shoulder. The perfect place for a mark.
My heart was slamming against my ribs.
His lips brushed over the spot like he was memorizing exactly where it was.
ThenI felt his canines extend, heat grazed my skin, justslightly, awarning of what was coming.
“I love you,” he whispered against my neck.
“I love you too,” I breathed back.
Then he bit down.
His teeth sank in and the pain was immediate and sharp, like a burn that went all the way through me.
But almost before I could register it as pain, it shifted into something else entirely.
Something hot and overwhelming.
All-consuming, bone jarring pleasure that spread from the bite mark outward like wildfire. It rushed through my veins and pooled low in my stomach and made my toes curl.
I gasped, my fingers digging into his shoulders.
He held the bite, his teeth sunk deep into my flesh, and I could feel something happening. Something beyond the physical. This golden thread weaving between us, connecting us in a way we’d never been connected before.
The mating bond snapping into place.
He pulled his teeth out, and his tongue swept over the mark immediately, soothing the sting and sealing the bond.
The sensation was so intensely pleasurable I made this embarrassing sound that I absolutely did not care about.
Cormac pressed his forehead against mine. We were both breathing hard, both trembling.
“Are you okay?” he asked. His voice was wrecked.
“I’m perfect,” I whispered. “That was perfect.”
I could feel the bond between us now. This living, glowing thing that pulsed with every heartbeat.
He kissed me again softly, tasting faintly of copper.
I reached up and touched the mark on my neck. It was tender and warm and already starting to scar over.
Something warm bloomed in my chest.“I love it.”
And I hadn’t even seen it, but I was certain.
“I’m glad,” he grinned. And then he leaned closer to my ear, whispering, “Now it’s my turn.”