I lay with my face buried in the damp sheets, which were so heavily saturated with our combined scents that breathing pure oxygen outside this room felt like it would burn my lungs.
For three long days, not a single window had been opened. The air inside the bedroom was thick, dense, and suffocatingly rich with our essence, and I breathed it in greedily—soaking it into every pore until it felt like an indelible part of my very soul.
Magnus had been utterly out of his mind. He hadn’t permitted me to leave the bedroom without him. His ravenous gaze tracked my every micro-movement, those dark irises swimming with something wild, ancient, and untamed.
He had become a true beast—a predator whose restraints had shattered, leaving nothing human behind in his actions. Every single warning he had given me took on physical, undeniable shape as he claimed me time after time. Like a starving wolf driven by raw instinct, he couldn’t get his fill, demanding more, again and again and again.
Before this, I hadn’t known my body was capable of such fluidity. I hadn’t known that simple, deliberate touches could melt my consciousness into a liquid haze—one that poured out of me alongside desperate gasps and shrieked entreaties of his name. I hadn’t known we could fuse together so many times in succession that the boundary between one wave of ecstasy and the next vanished entirely, dissolving into an endless, rolling ocean of pleasure.
I was soaked through. Between my thighs, across my stomach, over my breasts—where his slick, drying marks left pale trails on my skin. I was so thoroughly saturated with his scent that anyone who laid eyes on me would know instantly, without a single word spoken, exactly what had transpired between us.
I was marked so blatantly it felt almost obscene. Yet somewhere deep down—in that dark, quiet place where my sleeping breeder gene was beginning to awaken—it sparked a strange, shameful thrill of absolute satisfaction.
"How are you feeling? Does anything hurt?"
Magnus sat on the edge of the mattress beside me, wearing only a pair of black sweatpants. They hung dangerously low on his hips, exposing the sharp, carved lines of his abs and that prominent V-taper that robbed me of my breath—even now, when I was drained to my absolute limit.
The mattress dipped beneath his massive weight, and I helplessly rolled toward him, lacking the strength to resist the momentum. He reached down with a large, scalding hand, his fingers tangling into my sweat-dampened hair, gently untangling the strands with agonizing tenderness. His palm slid down over my shoulder, tracing the curve of my shoulder blade before settling at the small of my back, kneading the sore, overworked muscles.
After everything we had shared in this bedroom—confined within this cocoon woven of our scents, our bodies, and endless, unbridled passion—I should have forgotten the very concept of shame. Everything that had passed between us had obliterated every boundary of decency, stripping away every threshold of what I had once considered tolerable.
He had seen me, touched me, and claimed me in positions I hadn’t even known existed. Yet, despite everything we had just shared, I still felt a wave of self-conscious embarrassment being completely exposed before him in the clear light of day—where his dark gaze could trace every single inch of my skin and catch every flaw.
I wanted nothing more than to pull the bedsheet over my body, but I simply didn’t have the strength to reach for it. My arms felt like lead, my fingers barely responding; even the simplest movement seemed like an impossible task.
"I’m fine," I breathed into the pillow, keeping my eyes shut against the heavy weights dragging down my eyelids. "Just... completely out of energy. I need a shower and to sleep for twenty hours. Or thirty. Or maybe just not wake up for a week."
"You’ll sleep in the car," he stated calmly, his broad thumb continuing to trace soothing circles over my lower back, sending a quiet shiver of relief down my spine. "I’ll help you shower first. Today we’re traveling to meet my family, and I will officially present you to them as my mate."
My exhausted, thoroughly drained brain struggled to process the information. His words filtered through my mind as if underwater. Before I could fully grasp what he meant—which family, why today, what this presentation entailed—Magnus scooped me up into his arms in one fluid movement and carried me straight into the adjoining bathroom.
He set me down on the cool tile inside the glass shower enclosure. The sudden contrast in temperature made me shudder, goosebumps rushing across my skin. Without taking his eyes off me, he deliberately pushed his sweatpants down his hips, stripping completely bare. Out of sheer reflex, I averted my eyes, staring intently at the shower wall pattern to avoid looking at him.
He was hard again. I couldn’t fathom how much it took for him to finally reach his limit, or how many times he needed to claim me before that feral hunger in his eyes would finally be quenched.
He stepped up directly behind me, leaving no space between us. His large hands gripped my waist—his fingers pressing just firmly enough to make me wince, my skin hyper-sensitive from three days of unrelenting touch. His heavy, pulse-throbbing length pressed against the side of my thigh, leaving a slick, warm trail against my skin.
The overhead rain shower hissed to life, warm streams cascading down over our shoulders and filling the enclosure with a misty haze. Yet even over the rushing water drumming against the tile, his low, raspy voice carried clearly against my ear, his hot breath brushing my lobe:
"Stop being shy with me." His lips grazed my temple before trailing down to my cheekbone. "I’ve seen all of you. Every single inch. I’ve touched you, kissed you, licked you, bitten you, and entered you in every way possible. Why are you hiding again?"
"I can’t help it..." I whispered, my face flushing with a deep heat that had nothing to do with the warm water. "It’s... different. When you’re just staring at me like that."
"You’ll have to get used to it," his palm slid up my stomach, coming to rest right beneath my breasts while his other hand traced circles over my hip.
"Because from now on, I intend to take you every single day. Three days wasn’t nearly enough. It’s nowhere near enough to satisfy what I feel for you—for your body, your touch, your voice breaking under me. If it weren’t for this mandatory pack gathering and the obligations I can’t ignore, I wouldn’t let you out of that bed for another week. Or two. I’d keep you locked in this house and never let you leave."
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