Chapter 7

Bianca’s Point of View

My wolf loses it.

She doesn’t just stir or pace—she howls, slamming against me, clawing, calling out so loudly inside my head that it makes my vision blur.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

I suck in a sharp breath, my chest tightening as the pull nearly knocks me off my feet.

The man freezes.

Then he turns.

His eyes lock onto mine and the world tilts violently, like something deep inside me finally snaps into place.

“Oh—”

The bond hits.

Hard.

So fast it steals the air from my lungs.

My knees go weak and my wolf surges forward, purring and crying at the same time.

There you are.

His eyes darken instantly, something feral flashing through them, and a low sound rips from his chest.

“Mine.”

The single word vibrates through me, through my bones, and my wolf nearly melts.

Yes.

He crosses the distance between us in seconds. I barely register movement before his hands are on me, strong and sure, like he’s been touching me forever.

I gasp when his arms wrap around me and then his mouth is on mine.

The kiss is rough, hungry, overwhelming.

I don’t think.

I don’t question.

I cling.

My hands fist into his shirt as heat explodes through me, the blood moon amplifying everything until my head spins.

My wolf purrs loudly, shoving forward.

Closer.

I make a small sound against his mouth, my body reacting without permission, without restraint. My legs tighten instinctively and he groans low in his throat.

He breaks the kiss just long enough to breathe against my lips.

“Easy,” he murmurs, voice thick. “Easy.”

I snarl softly, my eyes flashing as frustration coils tight in my chest.

“Don’t stop,” I whisper, barely recognizing my own voice.

His mouth curves into a slow, dangerous smirk.

“Patience, little wolf.”

The words send a shiver straight down my spine.

Before I can respond, he lifts me effortlessly. I gasp, arms looping around his neck on instinct as he starts walking.

I should protest.

I should ask questions.

I don’t.

Instead, I press closer, breathing him in like oxygen.

Him, my wolf sighs.

I feel him between my legs and my breath stutters. My body moves on instinct, rubbing against him, chasing relief.

He groans sharply.

“Careful,” he mutters. “You’re testing me.”

“Good,” I breathe.

That earns a short, dark laugh.

“Bold.”

I nip at his neck without thinking and he hisses, grip tightening.

“Little wolf,” he warns, voice rough.

“You started it,” I mutter.

He hums in agreement. “Fair.”

It’s only when I recognize the building that reality tries to creep back in.

“The motel?” I murmur.

“Yes.”

“You have a room?”

“Mm.”

That’s all I get before he opens a door, kicks it shut behind us, and locks it without looking.

The sound echoes loudly.

Final.

He lowers me onto the bed but doesn’t let go right away. Instead, he stares at me like I’m something unreal.

Something precious.

A soft growl slips from him.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs. “Mine.”

My wolf preens.

Say it again.

I swallow hard. “You don’t even know me.”

His gaze flickers, then softens just slightly.

“I know enough.”

He leans in, resting his forehead against mine.

“You’re shaking.”

“I ran for days,” I admit quietly. “And tonight—everything feels… too much.”

“The blood moon,” he says. “It’s close.”

I nod. “My wolf hasn’t stopped pacing.”

“She won’t,” he replies. “Not now.”

“Neither will yours.”

He exhales slowly. “No.”

His hands slide up my arms, grounding, steady.

“You’re safe here,” he says firmly.

The words almost break me.

“You don’t know that,” I whisper.

His jaw tightens. “I do.”

I search his face. “How?”

“Because you’re with me.”

My wolf hums approvingly.

Strong.

I let out a shaky breath. “You’re very sure of yourself.”

He smirks. “You noticed.”

I huff a soft laugh before it fades.

“I can’t stay long,” I say suddenly. “I leave tomorrow.”

His eyes darken instantly.

“Why?”

“I’m running.”

“From?”

I hesitate.

“My brother.”

That’s all it takes.

Something dangerous flashes in his eyes.

“He hurt you.”

It’s not a question.

I don’t answer. I don’t need to.

His growl is low and furious.

“He won’t touch you again.”

I swallow. “You don’t know him.”

“I don’t need to.”

He leans down, brushing his nose against mine.

“You’re mine now.”

The possessiveness should scare me.

It doesn’t.

My wolf purrs loudly.

Ours.

I let my hand slide into his hair. “You’re very intense.”

He chuckles softly. “So are you.”

I pull him back into a kiss and this one is slower, deeper, but no less consuming.

His hands roam, learning, memorizing.

I melt.

The world narrows until it’s just us, the bond humming between us, the blood moon pulling tight around our hearts.

He breaks the kiss only to rest his forehead against mine again.

“We shouldn’t rush,” he says, voice strained. “But I’m not letting you go.”

I nod, breathless. “I don’t want you to.”

A satisfied growl leaves him as he kisses me again, hands firm, claiming, grounding.

And everything else fades away.