Chapter 12

The door hadn’t even fully latched before Ryder had me pinned against it. The wood groaned behind my back as his weight pressed me flush, his hands sliding from my thighs to my waist, gripping me with a force that promised bruises you wouldn’t mind.

“Inside,” he muttered against me lips, his voice ragged and stripped of all its usual cool composure. “You have no idea what you’re asking for, Haven.”

His mouth found mine again—harder this time, more desperate. He tasted like black coffee and something wild, something primal that made my head spin. One of his hands slid up, fingers tangling deep into my hair, tilting my head back to give him better access to my throat. He bit down again, not enough to draw blood, but enough to make me gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders through the leather.

“You’re mine,”

“You’re mine,” he repeated, his voice dropping into a register so low it felt like a vibration in my very bones. He pulled back just an inch, his forehead resting against mine, his breathing heavy and ragged. His eyes were dark—not just brown, but something deeper, more predatory, the pupils blown wide.

His hand moved from my waist, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw before settling on the sensitive skin of my neck where his teeth had just been. His touch was hot, almost searing.

“Haven,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a fresh wave of heat crashing through me. “I want to mark you.”

The words hung between you, heavy and thick. You knew what he meant. A wolf’s mark wasn’t just a bite; it was a claim. It was permanent.

“Then do it,” I breathed, my voice barely a whisper but steady. My hands gripped the front of his leather jacket, pulling him closer until there was no space left between us. “Mark me, Ryder. I want everyone to know.”

A low, guttural sound tore from his throat—half growl, half moan. He didn’t hesitate. His hand slid up to cradle the back of my head, his fingers tangling firmly in my hair as he tilted my neck to the side. You felt his hot breath against my skin, and then his teeth sank in.

It wasn’t gentle. It was a sharp, searing hot sting that made my eyes water and my toes curl against his back. I gasped, my body arching into him, not pulling away but pressing closer.

He held me there for a long moment, his teeth embedded in my skin, a low frequency rumble vibrating through his chest and into mine. I could feel the heat of him, the sheer intensity of the bond snapping into place like a lock clicking shut. When he finally pulled away, a thin strand of saliva connected us, and my skin felt like it was on fire where his mark sat—throbbing, hot, and undeniably his.

“There,” he rasped, his voice wrecked. He stared at the mark on my neck with an expression that was almost reverent, his thumb brushing over it with surprising tenderness. “Mine. You’re mine now, Haven.”

But I wasn’t done. My blood was singing, the mate bond demanding reciprocity, pushing me toward him with a hunger that matched his own.

“My turn,” I whispered.

A dark, surprised grin spread across his face, his eyes flashing with something both dangerous and delighted. “You think you can handle me?” he challenged, but his hands were already pulling me closer, his body leaning into mine as if inviting the attack.

I didn’t give him time to tease me. My hands slid up his chest, feeling the hard wall of muscle beneath his shirt, and I found the spot on his neck—the place where his pulse was thrumming like a trapped bird. I tilted my head, my teeth grazing his skin first, making him hiss through clenched teeth.

“Haven,” he warned, his grip on my waist tightening until it was almost painful. “I’m telling you, I don’t play nice.”

“I didn’t ask you to,” I countered, and then you bit down.

His entire body jolted, a sharp inhalation catching in his throat as my teeth sank into the corded muscle of his neck. A low, visceral groan escaped him—not one of pain, but of something much more dangerous. His hands slid from my waist to your hips, his fingers digging into my skin with bruising pressure as he leaned his weight into me, pinning me harder against the door.

“Fuck,” he hissed, his head falling back against the wood. “You actually did it.”

His eyes were blown wide, the dark irises nearly swallowed by black, watching me with an intensity that felt like it could strip me bare. I could feel his heart thudding beneath my lips—fast, violent, and completely unhinged. The taste of him was intoxicating, metallic and warm, and the moment my teeth pierced the skin, a surge of heat rushed through me that wasn’t just physical. It was the bond. It was him.