Page 74 of When Two Worlds Collide

We crash together in a tangle of fur and need, the incomplete bond screaming for resolution. But even in wolf form, I force myself to slow. This must be done right. No more interruptions, no more half-measures.

I pin her gently, teeth at her throat in dominance that’s also a question. She goes still beneath me, then tilts her head in submission that costs her nothing because we both know her strength.

The claiming in animal form is swift, necessary, the bond drinking in our connection like parched earth swallowing rain. When we shift back to human, we’re both gasping, the hollow ache already easing.

“More,” she demands, pulling me down to the furs. “Three nights in one. We make up for lost time.”

I cover her body with mine, skin to skin, feeling the bond pulse between us. “Impatient cat.”

“Your impatient cat,” she corrects, then bites my shoulder hard enough to mark.

What follows would shame civilized sensibilities and make wild shifters proud. We come together with desperate hunger, three nights of denial condensed into hours of claiming. I mark her throat properly, reopening the claiming bite until it will scar permanently. She marks me in return, her teeth at my shoulder sealing what we started.

Between the claiming, we hunt as one—human forms stalking rabbits by touch and scent alone. We bathe in the cold spring, then warm each other with friction that turns to need. We feast on raw meat and each other, wild and unashamed.

As dawn approaches, something shifts. The bond stops screaming and starts singing. Where hollow ache lived, warm certainty spreads. I feel her not as a separate entity but as an extension—her thoughts flowing with mine, her strength reinforcing my own.

Is this what completion feels like?Her mental voice no longer strains across distance but resonates directly in my mind.

This is what we’re meant to feel.I pull her against me, marveling at the seamless connection.Two halves of one whole.

That’s disgustingly romantic for a wild wolf,she teases, but her contentment flows through the bond.

Your influence,I accuse, kissing her to prevent an argument.

When true dawn breaks, we dress reluctantly. The worldwaits beyond our den, demanding attention. But we’re different now—not just mated but merged in ways that will take time to fully understand.

“Ready to test it?” Ember asks as we approach camp.

I feel her nerves through the bond—not about us, but about what comes next. The Frost Lynx delegation arrived during the night. Our first real test of the alliance we represent.

“Together,” I say, the word carrying new weight.

The meeting takes place at a neutral ground between territories. Three Frost Lynx warriors wait, lean, suspicious, bearing the ethereal beauty of their kind. Their leader, a female named Senna, watches us approach with pale blue eyes that miss nothing.

“So it’s true,” she says without preamble. “The Shadow Wolf alpha mated a civilized shifter.”

“The Shadow Wolf alpha mated a bridge between worlds,” I correct. “One who understands both wild heritage and adapted necessity.”

Through our bond, I feel Ember’s strategy forming. She steps forward, movements flowing with new grace—the completed bond enhancing her natural abilities.

“The barriers are gone,” she tells the Lynx. “The old territories can’t be reclaimed—too much has changed. But new territories can be negotiated. Shared hunting grounds established. Conflicts resolved without bloodshed.”

“Pretty words,” Senna says, but her tone holds curiosity rather than dismissal. “What do you offer?”

What follows is negotiation unlike any I’ve witnessed. Ember speaks for civilization’s resources—medicine, education, and trade. I speak for wild knowledge—hunting grounds, seasonal patterns, survival skills. Together we paint a picture neither could create alone.

When Senna finally nods, agreeing to trial boundaries and shared patrols, I feel the satisfaction echo through our bond.

“This might actually work,” she murmurs as the Lynx depart.

It will work,I tell her through our connection.Because we’ll make it work.

As we return to camp, I marvel at the changes. Not just in the bond—though that sings with completion—but in perspective. I haven’t lost my wild nature by taking a civilized mate. I’ve gained the vision to see beyond tradition.

“The bears next?” Ember asks, already thinking ahead.

“The bears next,” I confirm, though that negotiation will test us far more than reasonable Lynx.

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