POV Blake
Matthias shoved me onto the bed, my back hitting the mattress with a thud that sent a jolt of pleasure through me.
He was on me in an instant, his hips pressing against mine, his cock throbbing against my clit as he ground into me, driving me wild.
“You’re mine,” he growled, his teeth grazing my neck, sending shivers down my spine. “All. Fucking. Mine.”
When his teeth sank into the tender spot where my neck met my shoulder, it was electric. Pain and pleasure collided, sending white-hot sparks of ecstasy through every nerve in my body.
I cried out, my hips bucking against him, my nails raking down his back as my own teeth found his skin, marking him as mine.
The bond snapped into place like a damn live wire, searing and overwhelming, and I felt him everywhere—in my mind, my soul, my core. Our wolves howled in unison, their voices echoing through our minds.
Raw, primal and fucking perfect.
He fucked me like he was claiming every inch of my body. His hips pistoning into mine with a rhythm that drove me to the edge of sanity. Every thrust, every growl, every bite was a declaration of possession, and I reveled in it.
I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him deeper, fucking him back with every ounce of strength I had.
“Matthias,” I gasped, my voice breaking as pleasure crashed over me like a tidal wave. “Damn, I’m yours— yours—”
“Mine,” he snarled, his teeth sinking into my neck again as he came with a roar that shook the walls.
His mark throbbed with every pulse of his cock, a constant reminder that I was claimed, wanted, chosen.
And as we lay tangled together afterward, our bodies slick with sweat and our marks pulsing with heat, I felt complete in a way that years of searching had never achieved. I was his, and he was mine, and nothing else mattered.
"I love you," I whispered into the darkness, pressing closer like I could merge our bodies through sheer determination. "Whatever happens the day after tomorrow—"
"Nothing happens the day after tomorrow except a boring diplomatic meeting," he interrupted, arms tightening around me. "Your parents visit, we play nice, they leave. Simple."
If only.
But I didn't correct him, just burrowed deeper into his warmth and pretended the day after tomorrow wasn't bearing down on us like a freight train.
Let him have this night of peace.
His breathing evened out, but I stayed awake, memorizing the weight of his arm around me, the steady beat of his heart, the way our bond hummed with contentment.
If I couldn't change what was coming, at least I could ensure part of me would always belong to him.
Even if the rest of me shattered the day after tomorrow.
* * *
I hid in the one place no one would look for their Luna—the dusty archives room that smelled like dead trees and broken dreams.
My wolf paced inside me, claws scraping against my ribs, demanding we run or fight or do literally anything except sit here marinating in our own cowardice.
‘Stand up,’ she snarled. ‘Fight them. We are not weak anymore.’
"We're not weak," I whispered back. "We're just completely fucked."
Every memory from the past months played on repeat: Matthias defending me at dinner, Sage Helen's knowing smiles, pack members bowing with genuine respect instead of mockery.
They'd given me everything—a home, a purpose, a family that didn't require me to bleed for their approval.
Tomorrow I'd repay that kindness with betrayal.
Mother would be so proud, my ass.
The diary sat heavy in my lap, Amelia's perfect handwriting mocking me from every page. But today, for the first time since taking her place, I picked up the pen and wrote as myself.
Dear Amelia,
Remember when we were seven and you gave me your dessert because Mother said I didn't deserve one? You probably don't—being dead and all—but I do. I remember everything. Every shared secret, every time you stood between me and them, every fucking sacrifice you made trying to protect the family disappointment.
The words blurred as my hand shook.
You built something beautiful here. Matthias respected you, trusted you, was prepared to make a life with you based on mutual understanding and pack benefit. You laid the foundation for something real, and I came in and perverted it with lies.
I'm sorry I wasted your sacrifice. But what the fuck else am I supposed to do? They'll kill me, Amelia. Just like they killed you, except they'll make sure I stay dead.
You were the smart one, getting out when you did. Leave it to me to find the most complicated way to follow you.
"Blake?"
I slammed the diary shut, frantically wiping my face as Matthias appeared in the doorway.
Of course he'd found me. The mate bond was better than GPS and twice as invasive.
"Hey." My voice came out raw. "Just doing some light reading. You know, 'Archives of Pack Taxation, 1843-1847.' Real page-turner."
He crossed the room in three strides, pulling me against his chest without a word. The mate bond sang at the contact, which only made everything worse.
"Talk to me," he murmured into my hair. "You've been disappearing all day. Your wolf feels like she's trying to claw her way out."
"Promise me something," I said suddenly, gripping his shirt. "Whatever happens tomorrow, remember that everything I did here—with you, with the pack—was real. That was me."
His brow furrowed. "Blake, what—"
I kissed him before he could finish, pouring every apology I couldn't say into the contact. He responded immediately, the bond flaring between us like a living thing.
When we finally broke apart, I managed something that might have been a smile.
"I'm being dramatic. Ignore me. It's just... family stuff. You know how it is."
"I know how it was," he corrected. "But that's not your life anymore. You're mine now, remember? My mate, my Luna, my equal."
The certainty in his voice was beautiful and naive and completely wrong.
But I nodded anyway, letting him lead me back to our room, letting him hold me like his protection meant something against people who'd already murdered one daughter.
My wolf had finally stopped pacing, resigned to our fate. I curled into Matthias's warmth, breathing in his scent, memorizing the steady thrum of his heartbeat against my back.
I matched my breathing to his, letting his peace wash over me even as my mind screamed warnings.
Six hours until dawn.
Six hours until my parents arrived.
My wolf whimpered once before settling into uneasy sleep. Even she knew there was no fighting fate when it wore your parents' faces and spoke with twenty years of ingrained obedience.
Tomorrow will come whether I am ready or not.