Page 43 of King of Moon and Claws

Her fingers dug into his shoulders as she held onto him, her body arching to meet his. He responded in kind, his hands moving down to cradle her hips so he could pull her even closer. She gasped at the sensation, then let out a soft moan when he gently nipped at her neck in a promise of what was to come.

They rode the waves of pleasure together, their movements becoming more frantic as they neared their climax. Their eyes locked as Bastian thrust into her one final time, pushing them both over the edge into a whirlpool of ecstasy.

The moment their orgasms washed over them, Bastian sunk his teeth deep into her shoulder. Bastian tasted the hint of copper as he marked Elora as his, forever and always.

Her body trembled beneath his, still in the throes of climax. He followed right behind her, a deep groan echoing in his throat as he buried his face in her hair. Their heavy breaths filled the room as they reveled in their shared orgasm.

Slowly, Bastian leaned back to look at her, filled with love and awe. Her cheeks were flushed a rosy pink and there was a satisfied smile playing on her lips. Her eyes met his and he could see everything he had ever wished for reflected at him. He would be her lover, protector, partner, and the one person with whom he wanted to share all of life's trials and triumphs.

She was his, and now, she had the mating bite that would prove to the world that she belonged to him.

Chapter 25 Epilogue

Elora

The wedding of Elora's dreams was set to take place a few weeks after the engagement. She and the king were bonded, which meant their sense of eternal connection was even more enhanced. It made her telepathy abilities grow, too, into the effervescent ease of a spring day.

Sometimes, Elora fingered the mark delicately along the nape of her neck. It had formed into a thin pink line, having healed much faster than she anticipated. Her stomach coiled with the glowing memory of the way he’d tenderly made love to her that night. And every night since, their sexual appetites expanded and fluctuated as they learned about each other's sweetest spots of divine pleasure.

She was lucky in every way possible. Elora knew that. She had been training with Serife as her private teacher to go beyond what she knew she was capable of. Her confidence was brimming not only because of Serife's support but because of the sheer, undeniable fact that her resourcefulness had saved thousands of paranormals.

As the wedding guests settled in their rooms, she went to the library for a moment of quiet. The wedding was the next day, and though she was a little nervous to be seen as a queen, she was elated by the diplomatic prospects that their union would present.

Bastian teased her about the fact. Usually, after making love, they were naked, bathed in moonlight as fireflies danced outside their window sill. Elora relished in the thought, her mind wandering from the contents of the book spread open on her lap.

“I’m going to marry a king,” she whispered to herself, still tracing her lips. “And I’m going to be Queen. A friggin’ queen.”

Preparations were made that night for the procession that was to follow. It was also a part of wolf tradition to not spend the night before the ceremony together. So Elora was banished back to the guest room from which she was dearly acquainted, lonely and empty without her man.

But she wouldn’t ever have to feel that way again. No, Elora’s lonely days spent falling asleep in the dark, whispering to her animal friends of romantic adventures she’d read in book upon book were over.

She was going to be satisfied and satiated for the rest of her life with a man who was willing to give up his life for her. What else could a woman ask for?

The wedding day was opulent, luxurious, and elegant. Elora expected her nerves to rise to the surface, but they never did. Instead, there was a natural flow to the day, from the tailoring of her silken, emerald-sparkling gown, to the private reception.

The dress was a stunning piece with a sewn-in cape and intricate lace along the chest. The bodice cradled Elora’s naturally shapely and lean form, propping her breasts up to reveal a tasteful peek of cleavage. Her long blonde hair was the cherry on top of the beautiful look, curled for the occasion in soft waves and cascading down to her waist.

Elora caught herself in the mirror, gazing into her profoundly bright gray eyes, and caught a glint of something miraculous. A twinkle of lilac, just like the hue in Serife’s.

The witch had told her this might happen. It didn’t happen with all witches. Usually, just the ones that were likely to play some pivotal role in their kind’s history. It made her blush, and she blinked away the tears to keep from ruining her gorgeously applied makeup.

The wedding was as traditional as they came, sheer affluence and lavishness bursting from every corner. The Wolf lineage that Bastian was a part of had a coat of arms that shone emerald and bone white in the cathedral stained glass.

As she walked down the aisle to a guitar strum, she held onto the roses. Then, seeing Bastian, the King, the love of her life, nearly tore her into pieces.

He had let his beard grow after she said she liked the way the spikes traced across her skin when they made love. It looked pristinely cut, as was his dark hair, the rest of him enrobed in his military uniform. Bastian was striking when they’d first met, but after the mating, the bite, his presence to her felt like a ripple across a pond, overflowing with a sense of serenity and contentment.

They held one another as they said their vows. Bastian couldn't stop smiling. She liked the look on him.

Then Elora was crowned queen in a ritual that was far more complex than the wedding. Bastian had warned her that some traditions never died, much to his modern chagrin.

She didn't mind, though. She wanted to know everything about his world, even the parts he didn't particularly like or abide by. They stood together in the vast hall, a glistening crown constructed from caribou antlers and feathers from birds of paradise atop the king’s wonderful head, and made not only a commitment to one another but to the entire kingdom.

“I solemnly swear to uphold the well-being of the wolf shifter community above my own, and to never betray the people in the name of my own kind and lineage.”

They said the words at the same time while their palms were intertwined, hovering over what looked like a steel birdbath to Elora. They had cut their palms with a sacred blade, one that had been passed down from generation to generation, and quite literally fused their blood into one.

The king gave Elora a charming wink once the blood dropped into the bowl, mingling together. The blood would then be offered to nature, an unknown tree beyond the castle walls. It was said that if either the king or queen betrayed the people or each other, nature would turn against them.

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