Page 16 of Marked By The Grouchy Grizzly

His sexy lips part and his chest rises with a deep inhale, as if he’s trying to breathe me in.

I don’t move. I can’t.

The air between us is thick and charged. Something deeper than just attraction is crackling between us.

Then he exhales and rubs a rough hand over his jaw. His expression shifts, like he’s remembering something. Something serious.

His gaze drops to my shoulder and a flicker of regret darkens his face.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice raw and gravelly. “The tattoo… I didn’t mean to…”

I reach over my shoulder, pressing my fingers to the spot where his name is now permanently etched into my skin. My heart is hammering, but my voice comes out steady.

“Why did you do it?”

He swallows hard. His dark eyes burn into mine, wild and unfiltered, filled with something deep. Something desperate.

“Because I wanted you to be mine.” His voice is a rough whisper, but every word hits me like a strike of lightning. “I wasn’t thinking. My instincts took over. It was primal. It was…”

“Fate?”

His eyes are so piercing. They grip me. They seize my soul.

“Yes.”

“We’re mates, aren’t we?”

He takes a deep breath and my heart races. “We are.”

A shiver runs through me at the intensity in his voice, at the weight of his words.

We’re meant to be together. He’s the man for me.

In this moment I know it’s true. The weight of it cements itself in my soul.

Everything changes.

“I felt like I ruined everything with that tattoo,” he says, looking crushed.

“You didn’t,” I say as I run my fingertips over it.

Because the crazy thing is… I don’t hate it.

I never did.

I like that his name is on me.

I want to be his.

“The truth is,” I say as I slowly walk up the creaky wooden steps, coming face to face with him. “The tattoo—the white lily—it was supposed to be a pledge to my soulmate. It was meant to be a promise to my future husband. To let him know that I was waiting for him.”

He tilts his head slightly as he listens to me.

“So, it doesn’t matter,” I tell him. “It was always for you anyway.”

He’s holding his breath. I think I’m holding mine too.

“A flower, or your name,” I say, feeling my heart pounding in my chest. “It’s the vow that matters.”

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