I've got you, he projects, his mental voice a dark, gravelly rasp as he pulls me against his chest. His right hand slides down my back, his touch sending a warm, electric shockwave through my nervous system, bypassing the damaged nerves, speaking directly to my soul through the mate bond.
I've got you, I project back, wrapping my arms around his neck, burying my face in his hair.
We move to the bed, a tangle of limbs and scars and mortal, messy humanity. The physical act of love is different now. It requires more communication, more patience, more deliberate adaptation to our broken bodies. But it is deeper. It is richer. It is entirely, beautifully real.
Through the mate bond, I feel his pleasure, his love, his absolute, unyielding devotion. It washes over me, a warm, soothing balm tha
