Page 11 of Wanted By the Cartel

"Did you know," he said without looking up, "that the strongest pack bonds in history were formed with moon-blessed omegas? Not because they were controlled, but because they chose to share their power."

I moved behind his chair, letting my hands rest on his shoulders. His muscles were tense from hours of reading. I thought about giving him a massage, but then I remembered I didn't know how to do it.

"And what else have you learned?" I asked, beginning to massage the knots away. His satisfied groan sent heat pooling in my belly.

"That I'm the luckiest alpha alive," he replied, pulling me around to straddle his lap. The position brought our faces close together, our magic growing thicker between us. "Having you choose to stay, to trust me... It's something I thought would never happen."

I silenced him with a kiss, pouring all my growing feelings into it. His hands slid under my shirt, leaving trails of fire onmy skin. Every touch between us was charged with magic and desire, making it impossible to tell where one ended and the other began.

"You make me feel safe," I confessed against his lips. "Powerful. Like I don't have to hide anymore, and it's the best feeling I've ever had."

His eyes darkened with desire and something deeper. "Because you don't. Not from me. Never from me." His words rumbled through me, making my omega nature purr with satisfaction. He always made me feel the way, even when he wasn't trying to.

We spent evenings exploring each other's powers, finding ways they complemented and enhanced one another. My lunar magic amplified his natural alpha strength, while his steady presence helped me channel abilities I'd always feared to use.

"Again," he encouraged as I practiced a particularly complex spell. The moonlight streaming through the windows seemed to bend toward us, responding to our energy. "You're stronger than you realize, little moon."

The nickname should have felt patronizing, but from him, it was an endearment that made my heart soar. I always had to be strong before, but with him, I could let him take charge.

Just like the way he touched me—possessive but reverent, demanding but giving. Each kiss, each caress, and each breath we shared brought us closer to complete bonding.

Later that same night, as we lay tangled together on his ridiculously large bed, I found myself tracing the scars on his chest. I had always wondered about them. Now was the time for the tables to turn and for him to tell me more about himself.

"Tell me how you got these," I whispered, pressing gentle kisses to each mark.

His breath hitched as my lips moved lower. "Territory wars," he said, voice rough with desire. The words brought backmemories. "Before I became Alpha. When I was still proving myself."

I looked up at him, seeing the strength and vulnerability in his expression. I never thought he could look vulnerable, but now he was. "And now?"

"Now I have something more precious to protect," he growled, flipping us so he hovered over me. The weight of him, the heat of his skin against mine, made me arch upward with need. "Someone who makes all those battles worth fighting, and because of that, I fight harder than before."

His mouth claimed mine as our powers surged together, creating that familiar feedback loop of pleasure and connection. Every day, it became harder to remember why I'd ever wanted to run from this, from him.

When we finally broke apart, breathing with difficulty, I saw my own wishes reflected in his eyes. The mate bond hummed between us, growing stronger with each second, each revealed truth, each tender touch.

"Stay with me," he whispered, not an order but a plea. His fingers traced the crescent mark behind my ear, making me shiver. "Be my mate, my equal, my moon-blessed omega."

And for the first time in my life, staying didn't feel like surrendering—it felt like coming home.

???

The first sign was subtle—a change in how my magic felt, like moonlight filtered through water instead of its usual sharp clarity. It was weird. I wasn't going to deny it, but didn't think much of it at the start.

I dismissed it, telling myself I was imagining things. After all, I had been using more magic these last few weeks, practicing with Zoren, letting my power flow freely for the first time inyears. It was bound to feel different, wasn't it? At least, that was what I thought.

But then came the morning sickness. Not the dramatic kind you see in movies, but a persistent queasiness that made certain scents unbearable. The coffee I usually loved suddenly made me gag. Even Zoren's favorite cologne, which I'd grown to associate with safety and desire, now turned my stomach.

I hated myself for feeling that way. I didn't want to feel that way, especially about him.

"Are you feeling alright?" He asked one morning, concern evident in his amber eyes as I pushed away my breakfast untouched. I should have realized that eventually he would figure out something was wrong with me and wouldn't give up until he got the answer.

His hand reached for my forehead, checking for fever, and I had to force myself not to flinch away. It was the first time his touch didn't feel good. "You seem... different."

"Just tired," I lied, hating how easily the deception came. We'd promised no secrets between us, but this... this was too big, too terrifying to voice yet. I had been trying to push it away from me, but it wasn't going to work for long. "Been practicing too much magic, maybe."

He didn't look convinced, but he didn't push. That was one thing I loved about him—he knew when to give me space. For now, at least. I knew that his behavior would change soon. At the same time, I felt his worried gaze follow me throughout the day.

The third sign was impossible to ignore. My magic began reaching for something that wasn't there yet, curling protectively around my midsection when I slept. I'd wake to find my hands cradled over my stomach, a soft glow of lunar energy pulsing beneath my skin. What was going on?

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