Page 72 of The Princess and the Pack

“That’s good, love.” Oran’s voice is a deep, raspy growl in the throes of our coupling. Sweat beads on his forehead—his eyes are nearly black while lust has him in its greedy grip. “Feel that—feel me—and show your alpha how you come.”

When I shatter, Oran descends upon me, plunging his swelling knot inside. Every second is sweet torture as he stuffs me and seals us together.

“So good, my Ivy.My love,” he pants—teeth on my throat. They sink deep until all I can sense is his perfect, riotous fire of endless love. Wonderment fills my heart as I’m wrapped within the embrace of his bond.

“Mine,” I whisper. A simple sentiment but truer words have never been spoken. I belong to Oran, ordained by Fate herself to love him for all my days.

He purrs for me, tending to his new mark until sleep sweeps in and steals me away. Amidst the darkness exists a spark—a single emerald flame, so like the heat of his loving gaze.

Calm.

For once, my mind is not some wretched, raucous place filled with riotous self-doubt.

Instead there is calm, sacred quiet within the safety of my mate’s sweet soul. There, I’m held in sure arms that seek only to embrace me—to give and not take.

For Ivy, I’ll give myself willingly. I’ll lend every ounce of love in my heart until it no longer beats in my chest.

Our bond is a gift I’ll cherish—a home in which I’ll live for eternity.With her.

My Ivy.

My mate.

My everything.

Calm—the world is so very calm for the first time in my life.

I’m positive my heat-fueled, jealous display has already spread like wildfire amongst the court. Oran’s father is a vile, self-interested alpha and I have no doubt he ran to tell anyone who would listen that his son was scent-matched to Namara’s new queen. For all he apparently cares for tradition and legacy, I can imagine he was practically drooling over the potential of his heir on the throne.

I hate to give that man and his shriveled heart any ounce of satisfaction, but I don’t regret claiming Oran so publicly. Seeing my alpha accept the truth of my feelings for him—watching as pure elation spread across his handsome face—was one of the greatest moments of my life. Knowing I hold his tender heart in my hands is an honor I don’t take lightly. Everything that followed my declaration was long overdue and very worth the wait.

Oran’s knot has long released us, but we haven’t dared leave the safe comfort of my nest. It smells so good in here now, like fresh apples baked over an open fire. The scent of us together and the raw, recent memories of our coupling are nearly enough to have me urging him for more. But the soft, rhythmic circles he traces on my back and the steady beat of his happy heart is too lovely a time to interrupt.

Here, in my most sacred space, my alpha holds me close to him, hoarding my love and affection. His emotions radiate down the bond like phantom fingers dragging possessively along my skin. His love is hungry,greedy—wanting to be seen so others can bear witness to his fidelity.

I understand now that fear—not shame or disinterest—kept him from opening up to me. His soft heart is so fragile, but he does well to hide behind a steely façade. Finally seeing behind the mask has given me a new and profound appreciation for the man I’m now bound to in both body and soul. I know with certainty he will be a loyal, ever-loving light in my life. His passion, his devotion for me and for this pack, is truly a wonder to behold.

“I love you.” A whisper, a touch of my lips to his chest—right over his heart that beats for me and me alone. I don’t care if it’s too soon to utter such a thing. I feel love and so I want to voice it for the alpha who wears his tender heart on his sleeve.

If I’ve learned anything these past days, it’s that I no longer have any interest in being bound by the expectations of others.

Oran’s joy is bright as it fizzles through the bond, bringing a smile to both our lips.

“And I love you, my Ivy.” His emerald eyes well up with unshed tears and I so badly want to throttle anyone who’s ever made him feel unworthy.

“How much of a mess do you think I made out there?” I ask. I hate to bring the judgment of the world into our little haven, but it has to be addressed.

I claimed Oran as my scent-matched alpha in front of members of Cillian’s court,mycourt. I allowed Oran to sink his teeth into my throat, a claim visible for all to see. Surely my shortsightedness will incur consequences.

“Hmmm,” he ponders, pressing a lingering kiss to my forehead. The breath he blows out tickles my skin. “I think you really stepped in it, love.”

Cheeky alpha—a right menace. I bury my laughter against his freckled throat.

“It’s nothing they weren’t going to find out, anyway. I suppose it’s better for the court to hear it from my mouth than anywhere else.”

Oran sighs, adjusting our bodies so we’re nose to nose. He kisses me then—slow, heated meetings of our lips—until I’m panting and tracing my tongue along his.

When he finally allows me breath, his cock rests hard along my stomach with renewed need for me. “I don’t give a shite what anyone else has to say about this, omega. You are mine, and I’m so irrevocably yours. Whenever,whateveranyone hears is of little consequence to me so long as you know I will belong to you until this world is but dust amongst the stars.”

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