Page 57 of Feral Fates
His breath shudders. “Kitara…”
I set the pace, slow and devastating, grinding my hips in steady circles that keep us locked together and send sparks dancing along my nerves. His eyes never leave mine—those mismatched flames burning with devotion and something older, something wild.
The tension coils tight, heat and hunger sharpening with each pass, and then?—
It happens.
The world shifts.
I’m still riding him, but it’s like I’ve fallen inward.
The stone walls melt away, replaced by moonlight and trees. A forest. Wild. Free.
I seehimthere—Ryker. But not Ryker. His wolf. Massive. Silver-streaked and scarred and magnificent.
And beside him—me.
My wolf.
She’s real. Solid. No longer trapped. She’s running, howling, fur brushing his as we race through the night. I cry out, not in fear, but in release.
“Ryker—”
I lean forward, instinct screaming, and sink my teeth into the curve where his neck meets shoulder.
His roar echoes through both worlds—real and vision.
I feel his knot swell again inside me, locking us in place. His hands tighten, his mouth finding my breast, his hips buck once, twice—and he breaks, spilling into me with a cursed growl.
Around us, the dream-forest bursts into silver flame, and our wolves howl in unison. A chorus of belonging.
His blood touches my tongue, and I realize what I’ve done.
I’ve completed our mate bond.
I collapse against his chest, trembling and gasping. His hands are in my hair, on my back, his heart a thunder beneath my cheek.
“You saw it,” I whisper. “The forest. Our wolves.”
“I did.” His voice is hoarse, reverent. “She’s beautiful, Kitara. Just as you are.”
I close my eyes, a single tear slipping free. “We’re not broken.”
“No.” He kisses my temple. “You just needed to be seen.”
The heated ache is gone, replaced with a fierce and molten need. Satisfaction curls through me, and I have a bone-deep certainty that he is mine.
I shift slightly, and his hands slide instinctively to hold my hips. His breathing is ragged, lips parted, eyes half-lidded but glowing.
“You bit me,” he murmurs.
“I did.” I’m shockingly unapologetic. “I marked you back.”
A low, reverent laugh escapes him. “I fucking loved it.”
I drag my fingers through the sweat-damp hair at his nape. “You’re mine, Ryker. All of you.”
He looks at me like I’ve become the sun. “Say it again.”
