Page 226 of The Alpha's Pen Pal

“I thought of a way for you to give me a mark,” Wesley murmured between kisses.

“Oh, really?” I smiled against his mouth. “And how am I going to do that?”

He shook his head and kissed me again. Another deep, slow kiss. “You’ll have to wait until the new moon to find out,” he teased me.

I sighed in exasperation but melted into his warmth and strength, letting my body take control of the moment, giving in to my instincts. I would savor every kiss, every touch, every moment with him, like he said. I would show him my love at every opportunity because we had lost too much time already, and I didn’t want to lose anymore.

I was ready for our forever to begin.

CHAPTER 78

ONE MONTH LATER: NOVEMBER

WESLEY

The buzzing of the tattoo gun filled my ears, and the minor ache, itch, and sting of the needles hitting my skin along with the silver hitting my blood, had me closing my eyes every few minutes. But the tingles of the mate bond from Haven’s hand held in mine comforted me and dulled most of the pain.

I looked over at her and found her watching the tattooist raptly, her eyes locked on my neck, where he was inking her “mark” on me for all to see.

I’d come up with the idea to get a tattoo as my mark when we were flying home from Greece. But I didn’t have the idea of what it should be specifically until we moved her out of her apartment and into our house in Crescent Lake, about a week after the challenge against Pierce. She was organizing the letters and making sure she had them all, and as soon as I saw them in her hands, I knew just what I wanted my mark from her to be.

Which is how I came to be sitting in the tattoo parlor the day of the new moon, getting “Dear Pen Pal” tattooed on my marking spot in Haven’s handwriting.

Cheesy? Absolutely. But it was worth it to have Haven’s mark on me, to show everyone she had claimed me just as I had claimed her.

“How does it look?” Joe asked, pulling the gun away from my neck and letting Haven see the whole tattoo.

“Perfect,” she said with a smile, her eyes moving to mine.

We held each other’s gaze steadily while Joe cleaned up his supplies, tossing what he wouldn’t reuse and organizing everything else. But Haven held my undivided attention. Her smile, bright blue eyes, and the pure happiness that shone there all the time now, and her wild mane of red curls—all of it captivated me more than anything else ever could or would.

“How much do we owe you?” she asked, reaching for her purse and tearing her eyes away from me.

Joe waved her off over his shoulder. “Nothing,” he insisted. “It’s not every day your future alpha asks you to tattoo a mating mark on him. Being the one to design it is payment enough, Luna Haven.”

I sighed and rolled my eyes as I stood from the chair, put my shirt on, and took Haven’s hand. “Thank you, Joe,” I told him.

“Anytime, Alpha Wesley,” he said with a wink.

I smiled and shook my head. Even though it was going to be my title soon, I still wasn’t used to it. But after the day I defeated Pierce, everyone in the pack started calling Haven and me “Luna” and “Alpha.”

My ceremony to take over was still unscheduled. But my dad had been dropping hints to me that it would be sooner rather than later now that I had found my mate and would mark her.

I wanted to wait. Not because I didn’t want to take over. I did. I just didn’t think I was ready. And I wanted to just enjoy being a newly mated male for a while, if I was being honest.

I tossed a couple hundred dollars on the counter as we exited, even though Joe said we didn’t need to pay. I wasn’t about to walk away without compensating him. That wasn’t my style. Haven’s lips twitched, and she squeezed my hand as I did, and I pulled her under my arm as we walked through the small pack town towards our house.

Our house. I loved saying that, and I loved hearing her say that. Even my lycan perked up and wagged his tail every time she uttered the words “let’s go home,” or “our house” or “our room.” Knowing we had given that to her, given her a place she truly considered her home, was a feeling that was indescribable.

“How does it feel?” she asked, tilting her head up to look at me.

“The tattoo?” She nodded. “Fine. It should be healed already. We heal quickly,” I reminded her.

“I’ve noticed.” She chuckled. “You had a broken foot and ribs and a punctured lung one day, and by the next, you were—well, you were very active,” she reminded me, wiggling her eyebrows.

I threw my head back and laughed up at the orange and pink streaked sky, remembering that day vividly. I had made love to her in probably every room of our house that day. As soon as I’d gotten her through the door, my hands were on her, ripping her clothes off her. After the brutal fight with Pierce and my fear of losing her, I had needed to claim her over and over to remind myself that we hadn’t lost anything.

The memory of that day woke that fire in me again. Not that it took much, anyway. Not with Haven as my mate. And not with knowing what was coming next, what would happen when we were back in our home, in our room, and in our bed.

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