Andrew's POV
At first, I was conscious of his warmth against my chest, his skin against mine, his breathing soft against the side of my neck like the ocean soothing a beach.
Jamie.
Seized still in sleep, still stretched out over me like he owned the place — because he did.
The morning light crept in, slow, through the shutters, golden light spilling across his bare shoulder, tracing the freckles, the curves of muscle, each one. His hair was a halo of dishevelment on the pillow. And in my bed.
Gods, the way he moved last night…
The strength. The savagery. The yielding. I didn't just take him—I felt him. Soul deep.
I couldn't stop the small smile that spread across my face, nor the slow stir of desire that returned just from looking at him like this.
Then he shifted slightly and murmured sleepily, "You're staring again…"
I chuckled, low and warm. "Guilty."
Jamie stretched like a cat, eyes half-lidded, that devilish grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "Don't look at me like that if you're not ready for round two."
Before I could reply, he sprang, tossing me onto my back with a force that surprised me. He straddled my belly, flesh smooth and glimmering in the dark. His hands slithered up my arms, fingers entwining with mine above my head.
His eyes locked on mine.
Deep. Playful. Possessive.
"You did all the work last night," he said, tilting his head. "My turn."
Then he started to rock.
Slow.
Teasing.
I groaned out loud in the room.
His lips pressed against mine, a soft, demanding kiss. His chest was pressed against mine, just so, his naked hips grinding where it counted—enough to drive me wild but not enough to provide relief.
He kissed down my chest… across my stomach… and lower.
When he reached my aching length, he looked up and gave me a look so dirty and sweet that I thought I'd lose it right then.
Then he took me. All of me in his mouth.
"Gods," I gasped.
The pleasure was slow and torturous—his tongue, his pace, the hum in his throat that curled my toes.
I was close. So close.
And just as the storm swelled to its climax—
He stopped.
A cracked sound was what came from my lips. A whimper, for crying out loud.
He laughed. "You're so adorable when you beg."
And then, in the moment when I believed he was leaving me, teased and ruined, he climbed on top of me again.
And took me.
The gasp that came out of his lips when I glided into him was almost more than I could bear again.
He hesitated, shifted, then started to move, tentatively at first. Then, with gathering speed, riding me to a maddening rhythm that was beautiful.
I held on to his thighs, bracing myself in the knowledge that he was there. Alive. With me.
When I took over, rolling him over onto his back, our fingers tangled together once more. I stroked him as I moved inside of him, watching him unravel in my hands, his blue eyes fixed on mine.
We hit the perimeter together, blasting through it, holding onto each other like anchors on a wave too big to fight.
After it was over, Jamie collapsed onto my chest, both of us still breathing hard.
Then—a knock.
Tight. Sudden. Real.
We both froze.
"Yes?" I shouted out, my throat scraped raw.
One of the patrol guards. "Alpha Jackson would like to talk to you and… your mate. At the Garden of Lunara."
There was a moment's hesitation, as though he couldn't seem to say mate, but say it he did.
Once the guard had gone, Jamie stared at me, blinking. "Where's that?"
I stood up slowly and sighed, tidying his hair back. "It's just on the fringes. My mum's allotment. Beside the Falling Lakes."
I stood up and grabbed a shirt.
"It's where my parents spent a great deal of time. Where she… she died, protecting Ann. I believe—" I stopped. "I believe my father's attempting to provide us with something. Closure, maybe."
Jamie grasped my hand.
I smiled weakly. "Let's get cleaned up. We don't want to keep the Alpha waiting."
The Garden of Lunara
It was always beautiful, but today… Today, it felt sacred.
The garden blended into the nature itself — vines wrapping around the edges of worn stone benches, trees leaning in as if to hear, and the soothing rhythm of Falling Lakes in the distance, comforting and musical. Wildflowers painted the path bright, bursting with colour like the very ground remembered to love here.
We found him at the water, arms crossed, back straight but less commanding than it once was.
Alpha Jackson.
He turned at the sound of our steps.
And studied Jamie.
Longer than expected.
Then… something unexpected happened.
He opened his arms.
Jamie blinked in surprise, glancing at me.
I gave him a nod.
Jamie stepped into the embrace.
It wasn't stiff. It wasn't uncertain.
It was warm.
Alpha Jackson held him like a son he'd waited too long to meet.
"My son chose you," he said, voice quieter than I'd ever heard. "That's enough for me."
Jamie's breath caught.
And so did mine.
We three stood there, tied not by blood, but by choice. By battle. By destiny.
There was calm for a moment.
And then—growls.
Low. Deadly.
The patrol guards showed their teeth, instantly shifting into wolf form. Three wolves stood on either side of us, ears flattened, prepared to battle.
We were surrounded.
Rogues.
At least eight of them. Feral. Foaming. Their pack leader stepped out — a large black wolf, his fur dusty, scars pulling one eye downward, his muzzle twisted into an ongoing sneer.
He did not speak.
Did not need to.
Alpha Jackson did not blink. His wolf roiled under his flesh.
I fell behind, hot tears rising in my eyes.
Then—Jamie.
But his stance was unlike ours.
Was. regal.
Strong.
His eyes flashed gold, not blue. Not human.
Warrior.
The sort of radiance that hints of immortal lines and unspoken might.
We stood there, poised.
Expectancy clung like a physical force in the atmosphere.
Once, this garden was consecrated. now battleground-to-be-hewn-into-literature.
None moved.
Not yet, that is.
Because of the next move?
Would rewrite everything.