Page 59 of When Two Worlds Collide

He tastes like blood and wind and fire. His tongue claims my mouth while his hands drag down my spine, rough palms mapping every inch. He grabs my hips and grinds me against his thigh until I can’t breathe from the friction.

I answer in kind—nails scoring his back, biting at his lip, dragging him closer, deeper, harder.

“Two days,” he rasps against my jaw, teeth grazing skin. “Two fucking days of watching you hunt, hearing your cries in my head, smelling your heat on the wind?—”

“Then stop watching,” I gasp, back arching as he presses me into a tree. Bark scratches down my spine, grounding me in the ache of skin and sensation. “Take it. Take me.”

His hands lift me as if I weigh nothing. I wrap my legs around him and feel the full, furious proof of his hunger pressed between us.

“Say it,” he growls, holding me pinned with his body alone. “Say it now.”

I lean in, breath ragged against his mouth. “I’m yours, Zane.”

He snarls like an animal freed from a cage.

The first joining is feral.

There’s no ceremony in it—just us, skin to skin, hunger crashing through restraint. He takes me against the tree, one powerful thrust sinking into my heat, and I cry out, fingers buried in his hair, nails in his shoulders. My back scrapes bark. My thighs burn from the stretch. But I don’t care. Ineedthis—this force, this fire, this man.

He moves inside me like he’s carving his name into bone. Each thrust is savage, perfect, necessary.

I bite his shoulder to keep from screaming, and he moans my name like it’s the only word he remembers.

But it’s not enough.

The bond—living, breathing—wants more. Not just touch. Not just joining. It wantseverything.

He lays me down in the moss, never pulling out. His hands frame my face, eyes locked on mine.

“This is it,” he says, voice hoarse. “The moment we cross the threshold. After this—there’s no going back.”

“Do it,” I whisper. “Mark me. Claim me. Ineedit, Zane. I needyou.”

He lowers his mouth to my throat. And at the exact moment we crest together, he bites.

The pain is sharp, blazing,right.His teeth sink deep, blood mingling with orgasm, and the bondexplodes.

It floods us—soundless, blinding, a tidal wave of sensation and thought and memory. I feel him—every buried fear, every ancient instinct, every flicker of doubt and certainty. His love for his pack. His ache for something more. His soul reaching for mine in perfect symmetry.

Mine,the bond whispers.Ours.

I don’t hesitate.

I push him back, straddling him, and begin to ride—slow, agonizing, beautiful. His hands grip my thighs, his control cracking with each pulse inside me.

When I feel his need peak again, I lower my head.

And I bite.

My teeth break skin. I taste blood. His roar echoes through the grove, primal and eternal.

And the bondlocks.

Final. Irrevocable. True.

We collapse together, still joined, still trembling. Our bodies shake with the aftershocks of something far deeperthan climax. It iscompletion.The connection hums between us, intimate and infinite.

“Mine,” he murmurs into my hair, voice raw.

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