The fortress slept—or it tried to.
Moonlight spilled across the stones, pale and silver, but the shadows beneath the battlements seemed alive. My wolf stirred beneath my skin, restless, sensing danger—but also something else, something I couldn't name until Ronan appeared at my side.
"You should not be wandering alone," he murmured, voice low, rough. His hand brushed mine, lingering, warm, possessive.
"I felt restless," I admitted. My pulse throbbed—not fear, not entirely—but something deeper. The bond pulsed urgently, responding to his nearness, to the hidden desire that simmered beneath the surface.
Ronan's golden gaze roamed over me, sharp, assessing, and yet tinged with something almost tender. "The Purge may strike," he warned, though his body pressed subtly closer, the scent of him filling my senses, setting my wolf ablaze.
I shivered, instinct and desire warring inside me. The ritual, the bond, the power coursing through me—all of it coiled tight like a spring ready to snap.
"Ronan…" I breathed, voice trembling. "I…"
He cut me off, not with words, but with a hand sliding down my cheek, thumb brushing my lips, warm and commanding. "I will not let you hide from me," he said, voice low and thick with heat. "You tried once. You ran. But no more."
Before I could respond, his mouth was on mine. Rough, demanding, tasting of silver and fire. My wolf surged, unable to contain the need, pushing me against him instinctively. My fingers tangled in his hair as his hands roamed, strong and possessive, claiming the curves of me that had only ever been his in secret.
I gasped against him, feeling the bond flare hotter, reacting to the tension, the energy, the heat. The triplets stirred within me, tiny pulses of awareness that amplified every sensation, every shiver, every thrum of desire.
"You feel them," he murmured against my neck, teeth grazing lightly, teasing. "They know. They are part of this… part of you."
"Yes," I whispered, hips pressing forward instinctively. Desire surged—not just for him, but for the bond, for the power we shared, for the life thrumming within me. "And I… I can't resist you."
His hands slid lower, cupping me fully, firm, and claiming me with possessive intensity that made my knees weaken. "Good," he growled. "You're mine. You always were."
The fortress around us faded. The threat, the Purge, the shadows—none of it mattered now. Only the warmth, the pulse of the bond, and Ronan's hands and mouth and body against mine.
I arched against him, breath catching, wolf roaring within as he guided me, matching my rhythm, letting the power surge between us. It was more than sex—it was connection, ritual, affirmation of the bond that neither betrayal nor fear could break.
"Do you feel them?" he whispered, hand brushing against the swell of my stomach, fingers tracing invisible lines over the skin. "Your children—they are part of this. Part of us."
"Yes," I gasped, gripping him tighter. "They are… they're everything."
Ronan groaned, a low, guttural sound that resonated deep in his chest and against mine. He pressed closer, bodies moving together in an urgent, rhythmic flow, hands and lips claiming, teasing, demanding. I felt every pulse of his desire, every flash of possessive heat, every roar of the bond that tethered us not just to each other but to the triplets, to destiny, to the prophecy.
The world narrowed to warmth, to pulse, to fire. My wolf surged, claws and teeth unnecessary but itching with instinct. My breath hitched as his hands cupped me fully, pressing me flush against his chest, the heat, the scent, the pressure driving me to the edge.
"You're mine," he growled, low and fierce. "And I will never let you go again."
"Yes," I whispered, voice breaking with need. "I'm yours… all of me."
Our bodies moved together, the bond amplifying, weaving, connecting, energy thrumming like a living thing. Each pulse, each shiver, each gasp echoed in the fortress walls, in the runes beneath our feet, and deep within the three small hearts that stirred inside me.
When we finally broke apart, breathless, sweat-slick, the moonlight catching on flushed skin and gleaming hair, I leaned against him, chest heaving, wolf quieting in relief and satisfaction.
"You're stronger than I ever imagined," Ronan said, voice low, husky. "And this… this bond is more powerful than even I realized."
I smiled weakly, warmth flooding me, not just from desire, but from the knowledge that we had survived the night, the connection deepened, the bond solidified.
But even in our private ecstasy, danger lingered. I sensed it—another shadow moving within the fortress walls, watching, waiting.
Ronan pressed a kiss to my temple, soothing, possessive. "Rest now," he murmured. "We have time… but only just. The Purge won't wait, and neither will our enemies inside these walls."
I closed my eyes, heart still hammering, wolf quieting, triplets pulsing steadily within me. One truth settled firmly in my mind:
I would never run again.
Not from him. Not from destiny. Not from the power I carried.
And whatever or whoever watched us in the shadows would soon learn one fact above all:
The Lycan King, his mate, and their children were unstoppable—together.