This is what I wanted her to understand. The pure freedom of the hunt. The satisfaction of providing. The bond between predators who kill together.
By afternoon, we’ve cached the remaining meat and found a pool fed by hot springs. She plunges in without hesitation, and I follow. The warm water soothes muscles tired from the hunt.
She paddles over to me, playful now with her belly full. When she nips at my ear, I retaliate by dunking her head underwater. She surfaces sputtering and launches herself at me.
We wrestle in the shallows—teeth and claws carefully sheathed, more play than battle. But when she manages to pin me briefly, her smaller form somehow leveraging mine into the mud, heat of a different kind spreads through me.
The mate bond pulses between us, demanding more than play.
She feels it too. Goes still above me, her golden eyes darkening. The air between us charges with tension that has nothing to do with hunting.
I flip us easily, covering her smaller form with mine. She doesn’t fight, just watches me with those predator eyes. Waiting. Wanting.
The need to claim her properly nearly overwhelms me. But not like this. Not as animals. The final claiming requires both forms—beast and human united.
I step back, shaking water from my coat. She follows me onto the bank where the afternoon sun warms the rocks. We sprawl together, touching but not pushing for more. Not yet.
As evening falls, we hunt again—rabbits this time, quick prey that tests her speed against my strategy. She catches two to my one, preening with satisfaction at her victory.
Night brings us back to our sheltered grove. The moon rises full and bright, casting silver patterns through the leaves. She paces restlessly, the bond pulling at us both.
I shift first.
The change flows like water, wolf becoming man between one breath and the next. She watches, still in panther form, those golden eyes tracking over my naked body with unmistakable hunger.
“Shift,” I tell her, voice rough from disuse.
She resists for a moment, her panther reluctant to give up control. Then the change ripples through her, fur becoming skin, claws retracting, until she kneels before me in human form.
Blood still stains her mouth. Her hair is wild, matted with leaves and dirt. Scratches from our wrestling mark her shoulders. She’s never looked more perfect.
“We’re not supposed to be human,” she says, but makes no move to shift back.
“We need both forms for the claiming.” I move closer, unable to resist touching her. My hand traces the curve of her shoulder, feeling her shiver. “Are you ready?”
“I—” She stops, conflict clear in her eyes. “The third night. We should wait.”
“Should we?” I cup her face, thumb brushing her cheekbone. “The bond grows stronger every hour. I can feel your need, wildfire. Just like you feel mine.”
She leans into my touch. “What if we can’t stop? What if?—”
I silence her with a kiss.
Not the desperate violence of our first encounter, or the guilty passion in her office. This is slower, deeper. I taste the wild on her lips—blood and freedom and fire. She moans into my mouth, hands tangling in my hair.
I lay her to the moss, covering her body with mine. Every point of contact burns with the bond’s demand. She arches beneath me, nails raking down my back hard enough to draw blood.
“Zane,” she gasps when I bite the junction of her neck and shoulder. “Please?—”
I know what she’s asking. The bond screams for completion, for the final claiming that will join us permanently. My body aches with the need to take her, mark her, make her mine in every way.
But through the haze of desire, rationality surfaces. The ritual has rules. Patterns laid down by a thousand generations of wolves. To break them now might weaken what we’re building.
“Not yet,” I growl against her throat, though it kills me to say it. “Tomorrow. Under the blessing of the third night.”
She makes a sound of pure frustration, then bites my shoulder hard enough to mark. “Then why did you shift?”
“Because I needed to taste you.” I kiss her again, swallowing her whimper. “Needed to feel you. To know you want this as much as I do.”