Page 69 of Alpha Charmed

“Human?” I pull back just enough to meet her eyes. “You’re allowed to be scared, Anouk. You’re allowed to need people. You’re allowed to admit that losing me would hurt.”

“It would destroy me.” The words are quiet, fierce. “I didn’t realize until I couldn’t feel you anymore. How much I’d come to rely on knowing where you are. Having that certainty.”

“Certainty that I’ll always be there?”

“Certainty that you’re mine.” Her hand presses against my chest, over my heart. “I convinced myself I didn’t want this. Didn’t need it. Building walls so high that no one could climb them. And then you were gone—just for a moment—and the walls didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except getting you back.”

“You did get me back.” I draw her nearer. “The ritual failed. The claiming held. Whatever magic chose us, it’s stronger than any attack the Preservers can throw at it.”

“Because we waited so long.” Her laugh is watery, almost disbelieving. “That’s what Grandmother Peach explained. Our stubbornness saved us.”

“I prefer to think of it as unusual patience.”

“You would.” She’s smiling, the expression small and fragile but real. “All those council meetings. Watching each other across the table. Refusing to act. Convincing ourselves it was professionalism.”

“Strategic restraint.”

“Denial.”

“Also denial.” I trace the shape of her jaw with my thumb. “But it’s over now. No more denial. No more walls. Just us.”

I kiss her forehead. Her cheek. The corner of her mouth.

“You’re not losing me. The ritual failed. We’re still claimed.” I meet her eyes, letting her see the truth there. “We’re going to stay claimed. Forever, if you’ll have me.”

“Forever sounds acceptable.”

“High praise.”

I kiss her properly this time—slow, thorough, a kiss that makes promises I intend to keep. When we part, her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are soft. “Come with me. Pack territory. My cabin.”

She blinks. “Now?”

“Now. Tonight. Tomorrow.” I rest my forehead against hers. “However long you want. Just be mine for a while. Let me take care of you.”

“That’s a very wolfly request.”

“I am a very wolfly person.”

“You’re a ridiculous person.” But her arms are wrapping around my neck, and her body is relaxing against mine, and her magic is humming contentment through the air around us. “Fine. Take me to your territory, Alpha Sternwolf.”

“With pleasure, Coven Leader Darkwater.”

I carry her out of the apothecary.

Not because she can’t walk—she can, and she’d probably argue the point if she weren’t so exhausted—but because I want to. Because my wolf is demanding it, and for once, she’s not fighting.

“This is unnecessary,” she murmurs against my shoulder.

“Probably.”

“I’m perfectly capable of walking.”

“Undoubtedly.”

“You’re doing this to be dramatic.”

“I’m doing this because you just survived a severing ritual, and I haven’t fully steadied since Cordelia attacked. Carrying you is the only thing that’s helping that settle.” I adjust my grip, cradling her more securely against my chest. “Also, you’re warm, and I like holding you. Consider it selfish motivation.”