Page 39 of Wanderlust With Wolves

"Stay," he murmurs, the word barely more than a breath.

But it tethers me in place.

I shiver, but not from the cold.

I’ve spent my whole life chasing the horizon, convinced that settling meant losing myself.

But now?—

Now, I am held by a wulver who watches me like I’m his entire world, like I’m the only thing that matters.

And I wonder?—

If home isn’t a place.

It’s a person.

The thought snaps something inside me.

I don’t hesitate.

I don’t overthink.

I launch myself at him, hands gripping his furred shoulders, body pressing flush against his, a desperate, reckless need spilling from me.

He catches me, a low, surprised growl rumbling in his chest, but he recovers fast, his arms locking around me, securing me in place.

I crush my mouth to his, kissing him fiercely, yielding to him while feeling utterly free in his embrace.

He’s solid, unshakable, the one thing I never knew I needed.

His hands roam, his touch possessive, like he’s memorizing every inch of me.

Like he’s making sure I know exactly who I belong to.

And for the first time in my restless, wandering life,

I don’t want to be anywhere else.

Chapter Nineteen

ROAD-TESTED & MATE-APPROVED

Maya

A few weeks later,and my van is a masterpiece.

Ronan has spent days working on it, making it beautiful, making it mine.

It’s not just repairs—it’s an overhaul, inside and out.

It shines, from the fresh coat of paint to the reinforced shocks, to the tiny thoughtful details only someone who listens, who cares would think to add.

My eyes prickle as I take it all in, running my fingers over the intricate carvings he’s added to the interior woodwork.

Wulver designs.

Markings of protection and belonging.

---