When I entered our bedroom, Lucian was sitting on the edge of the bed in just his shorts. He looked up at me like I was the only thing that existed.
“Come here,” he said, and I obeyed without hesitation.
I slipped off my robe and stepped into his arms. My fingers traced the Alpha Mark on his upper arm before I kissed it gently. That mark represented strength, status—and now, intimacy. He pulled me into a deep kiss, and it was tender but urgent, like he needed the reassurance of us.
“I’m addicted to you, Mara,” he murmured against my lips. “I can’t get enough.”
His words lit something in me. I wasn’t just wanted. I was claimed, loved, treasured. My body responded before my mind could catch up—heat flooding through me, tension building beneath my skin. My core clenched with need and anti
