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‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐍'𝐒 𝐆𝐀𝐙𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍'𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐌 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐍𝐀𝐏 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑. Morrow barricaded himself in the washroom while giving her no indication of his mind. She doesn't dare knock, knowing that her presence might just irritate him more, and the last she needs to do is piss Morrow off. Ever since they departed from the royal Yestrean castle, Morrow's kept his end of the mind-link open to her, even if all she can stroke is fragments of his aura. Yet, he won't indulge in their bond. He told her that she was exactly what he can't have, even if the wolf inside of him desires the intimacy of its mate.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎It's that same desire that will rip him apart for what's to come. Thorn told him to take Elowen along to Pailon, but Morrow refuses to let her come when her magic remains flat. His wolf needs her to be protected, to be kept away from harm's way.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎He wants her to be locked away in the Tabrien palace forever, even though he once said that he wouldn't make her stay when this was all said and done.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Maybe she should leave him before he needs to make the decision. If she flees, Morrow won't have to take her to Pailon. She won't have to go back to Tabrien and be a gemstone locked in the were's prison cell. Yet, if she goes, there will be a part of Morrow that will hunt her down day by day until she's back in his possession. He'll shed the blood of whoever keeps her from him, a madness driven in wolfish instinct.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Her eyes remain on that door, centred on thoughts of the were-wyng behind it.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎A guttural growl rumbles from the washroom, reverberating down their tether in tidals. The sound of Morrow twines around her and her inner creature, whelming her in throngs of bliss, heat pooling to places between her legs. With a small pull of their invisible string, he beckons her to him. He's in control, ready to machinate with the authority woven into his alpha blood. She takes a step closer to the washroom door, then another, and another, until she's standing in front of it with her hand clasped around the golden knob.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Morrow's wolf stalks into her psyche, followed by the phantom kiss of his lips against her pulse. He drags a ghosted claw down her navel between her legs, although she dreams of it being real. Sleeping next to him night by night hasn't halted her dreams of him, neither has it diminished the ache she wakes up with due to their unfulfilled bond.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Don't think you can hide your thoughts from me, he murmurs, his voice a breeze against her ear.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She closes her silver eyes, the phantom caress of his palm swaying between her legs, although it's nothing like his real touch. Hide what?

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Y‎‎‏‏‎‎ou called me your mate when you thought I was in trouble. I heard it in your thoughts.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She's never felt more betrayed by her own self. You know that's not true.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎I can't get it out of my fucking head. Look what it's doing to me. It's pathetic.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎There's a tug on her tether, a lure for her to draw closer to that delicious growl. She twists the doorknob, but forces herself to hesitate. The ghostly sensations of him on her body only deliver more heat to her skin, leaving her uncomfortably needy and flushed.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎This isn't what he truly wants, is it?

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Caving into their matebond wouldn't be wise for them. He has his pack. That's his priority.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Open the door, sparrow, his voice purrs. Join me.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She bites her lip as she forces her muscles to stay stiff. Her creature fights her logic, but even she's mystified by the god-like sculpture that awaits on the other side. The shower runs, and she can almost see the water cascading down tanned scars and marble ridges and valleys. He'd be magnificent behind that door, a monument meant to be worshipped in full admiration.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"There's no room in the shower for two," she teases.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎The shower tap squeaks off, a scrumptious low growl strumming from the depths of his soul. It laces into their bond, amplifying every plane of him in full. She knows he's only a breath away on the other side of the door.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Don't make this harder than it needs to be," he murmurs aloud.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎The door squeaks open, but she keeps her eyes closed. She can't cave. It's for the betterment of their relationship if they keep it amicable like this, like it always was. She's fallen into his temptations once, but as he comes closer to her, she knows the errored fate is bound to repeat itself.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎A humid palm slips into the dip of her hip, spinning her backward so her body careens against the door frame. Wings twirl, and her spine plasters against the smooth surface, while her upper half cumbers against the sinewy facade of his chest. Heart beats syncopate to the bassline of his wolfish growls and heavy breaths, one of his claws toying with her vulnerable pulse.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Still, she keeps her eyes closed.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎He's stark naked. The moisture on his skin absorbs into her thin night dress, cooling her before the heat of him engulfs her whole. The moment she opens her eyes, it'll be game over until dawn.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Just a taste," he breathes against her throat, nipping at skin until it swells with the mark of his teeth. Still, he draws no blood. He completes no bond.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She sighs as her hands weave into damp cloves of dark hair. She threads her fingers within tousled curls, through windswept locks and lost strands. "You don't want this."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎He presses closer, lifting her body up so his hips dig into her own. Her thighs part around his lean torso. His iron-hard erection digs into her core, a perfect friction, one that sends a suppressed moan from Elowen's lips.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She can deny it all she wants, but the tension between them needs to be eliminated.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎He takes the sleeve of her gown in his sharp teeth, nudging it off her shoulder. An exhale of hot air dances over her delicate flesh, followed by a teasing bite of his canines. No mark. No claim.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"I very much want this," he murmurs before he croons into the other side of her throat. He annihilates her skin with suckling kisses, easing each one with a sweep of his tongue.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Think of your pack," she tips her head back. Damn her for submitting to his affections. Her words oppose him, but her body remembers the pleasures he brings under his dominance.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"I am."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"No, you're not."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Fuuuck," he hisses. He grinds his cock into her core, the only obstacle between them her thin flimsy panties. "Open your eyes, sparrow. Look at what horrible things you do to me."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"No."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"I'm starting to fucking hate that word."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She clenches her thighs around his torso, his rhythmic hips rubbing against her in a way that feels oh-so-good. Her hands leave his hair to cling into his shoulders. She sinks her nails into him, bracing herself as her resistance dissolves under the glow of the moon. She rocks her core into his cock, a movement that becomes Morrow's undoing as he releases the most pleasured howl.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎So much for keeping the noise to a minimum.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎The sound coerces her eyes to open, revealing the most sultry image of the alpha.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎In the beams of lackluster moonlight, he's under her spell. His sharp features twist in need as he greedily enjoys the way he oscillates against her arousal dampened panties. His brows knit so deeply, so focused, and yet, his meadowed hues glow with lust and hunger. His black wings bristle in delight, spread wide in ecstasy. He's a starved wolf awaiting for his next feast.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎His mouth slants with a dangerous smirk as his lips find the sanctuary of her own, each kiss building a castle where he can call himself king. Her blood warms, her inner creature singing as their bond slowly comes into place. Fingertips delicately trace designs into her skin, touches meant to be savoured and etched until the end of time.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Remember that you're all fucking mine, sparrow." He places a salacious kiss on her lips, sharp teeth dragging out her bottom lip as he pulls away.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Just like you are all mine."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎He places his palm against her jaw. "Yours."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎It's then she drinks him up. All of him. He guides her vision down every intricate contour. He's been sculpted to perfection, a body enslaved in years of labour and work. Yet, beneath his athletic build lies the skin of a man wedged in pillars of darkness. The cicatrice of his latest witches runes ebb in anguish, each one blistering scarlet and swollen in irritation. He must be in pain, so much pain that he'll need a remedy.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Their movements still when Elowen traces the outline of a deep rune cut into his pectoral. She recalls the way the knife broke the surface of his skin, the way he held his tongue so his screams wouldn't tear down their matebond. She'd always known he held it all back for her, allowing their minds to overlap so only fragments of his pain would reach her. He always had endured worse. Yet, he never showed the reality of the torment he faced in Scaerus.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Somewhere in his mind, his wolf whimpers at the trauma of his past battles. Her finger traipses over the elevated scabs, his wolf pacifying with her simple touch. She's the cure to his tortures, the calm within his never-ending storm.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"You'll do it all again, won't you?" she breathes as her fingertips continue to trace every ugly scar.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎His features darken. "I'm in debt. Until I pay my dues, I'll go back to Scaerus."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"No one's making you go there."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"If I don't go to them, they'll enter my territory and drag me to their hell themselves. It's better I go willingly so the rest of Tabrien doesn't have to see what's become of me."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Her silver irises find his firefly glow. She searches for a sliver of truth that she can cherish. There, betwixt his lies and deceit, she finds a light in him that she never saw before, one that flickers in the pit of his soul.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎That light is the most beautiful thing in the kingdom.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She presses her forehead to his own. "I don't care what scars you carry, or what darkness you believe you hold. You, Morrow Killian, are a beacon of light."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Don't say that."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Yet, she delves deeper into the chasms of his mind, her blood thrumming at the discovery of what lies beneath his surface.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"You will tear this world apart if it means keeping your pack protected, even if the kingdom views you as a villain. You ask for nothing in return, because you're afraid that one selfish choice will put those you love at risk."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"I am not the man you think I am."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"You are," she eyes up his throat. His pulse almost appears palpable in a tightly strung tendon. "You're mine. These scars you carry are mine. The nightmares you see when you close your eyes are mine. The pain that inflicts you is mine. I want it all."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎The words drift between them like lost notes of a symphony. Slipping into the appeal of the matebond won't be wisest of decisions, but after finding that flame of good stored inside his blackened heart, she longs to be connected to it forever. Near. Far. Across mountains and rivers.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Perhaps completing the bond won't be so bad.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Reading her mind, Morrow tilts his head, his tanned throat vulnerable to the dusting of moonlight. That tendon pulsates to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, a sight that causes her creature to jump with anticipation. This isn't any simple tip of his neck.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎It's an act of submission.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎The alpha of Tabrien will never submit, unless it's to his mate, his luna.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Morrow's gaze tracks elsewhere, his voice almost unheard. "Claim me."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She stares at him, not expecting his walls to crumble to ashes like this. "You know that I can't."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"I'm yours. Always have been, and always will be. I'm tired of convincing myself that you're not my other half when your thoughts keep intruding mine as if they belong there. You're always there when I just want to be alone, but fuck it, maybe I don't need to be." His palms find the base of her wings, digging into soft white feathers. "Take my blood, sparrow."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎When she searches their tether, his thoughts remain a tangled chaos of need. She refuses to leave him for the night, but it's clear Morrow's prepared to throw every barricade of hindrance out to sea. Yet, she sees that rare light in his soul, a lighthouse in the dark that guides her safely to his shore.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She bites her tongue, her cheeks flushing a bashful red. "How would I...?" Is sinking her teeth into his pulse all she needs to do? A visible act of the bond? "Do I just...?"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎He grunts, raising his head upright before propping his strong grip beneath her thighs. His voice rings through her cranium as he picks her up in his arms and hauls her towards the bed.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎So confused, little bird, he chuckles.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎He lays her down on the twin sheets, causing the mattress spring to squeak beneath their weight. His naked figure hovers above hers, a god-like sight that wipes all sense of clarity away. Her gaze betrays her as she hones in on his fully erected dick poised right at her. Angry. Swollen. Leaking at the tip. She gulps, nerves settling in before she can catch them.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Relax a bit," he murmurs as he spreads his black wings. The moon fails to reach her skin from beneath the canopy of black feathers. "For the were, claiming a mate is the highest form of trust and devotion."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"And submission."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎He growls at this. He doesn't like the sound of submitting, even to his mate, but it's something that needs to be done in order to complete their bond.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Morrow guides her arms around his neck, ushering her mouth near his pulse. She kisses the sweet spot she knows she'll have to bite into, but she's not sure if she's sold on sinking her flat teeth into his flesh like she's supposed to. Afterall, none of her is were.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Her hands groom through his still dampened locks, only to find the space behind his ears to give him a scratch.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Morrow nuzzles the top of her head. "It'll be overwhelming at first. You'll get all my thoughts and senses in that head of yours like a fucking flood, but don't pull away. Deepen the bite. My blood will be sweet to you, and you need enough of it in your system to stake your claim on me."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Will it hurt?" she asks, watching his heart thump in that susceptible vein in his neck.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"From you, never."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Why now?"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Because," he clenches his fists as he lowers himself closer against her, every crevasse of him felt through her night dress. "Hell knows what horrors are waiting to screw me over once I step foot out of here. I'm ready for someone else to know, someone who's already infiltrating my mind."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She longs to blame Morrow's submission to her on the moon, but there's a sincerity laced into his words that makes her hold her tongue. Perhaps it's one that's been there all along if she was inclined to read the clues. For the first time, there might be something deeper than just a bond between them, something that makes her heart twinge in longing.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Elowen yaws her head against his pulse, her kisses soft against his heartbeat. A gratified growl erupts from his chest as he pushes his body closer against hers. Her legs retwine around his lean torso, belted in against him with clenched thighs as her dress lifts. Fulfilling the bond will stimulate her with more than she's ever known, and the alpha will guide her through every ricochet with steady palms.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎So she kisses rougher, taking his skin into her mouth, causing a moan to tear from his lungs. He continues what he started near the washroom door, grinding his erection against her core. The mattress spring squeaks with every desperate roll of his hips, cursing that her panties still hinder him from driving inside her dripping entrance.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Which she suddenly wants.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎His thoughts blister in tones of hungered lust, ones he can't say aloud or let his body do. They're silent indulgences, guilty thoughts of her. Let me rip that soaked piece of fabric away from between your legs. I need to be inside you, sparrow.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She hums, slipping a hand between her legs to remove the barrier keeping him from her. To her dismay, he takes a firm hold of her wrist and brings it back up to around his neck.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"No," he hisses. "Not in full. Not yet."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"But you want this," she whines.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"I do, but it's not just about me. It's about you, and I can't give you what you deserve in this fucking bed. I'll still get you off. Multiple times. Just ignore my wolf if you can."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Her thoughts are overrun with images of them back in Tabrien, stowed away in the haven of Morrow's sheets. She'll be stretched and thrown in every position possible, marred with kisses and bites to claim what belongs to him, what he believes he's always had. She can't dismiss his inner wolf when his wolf has always been half of him.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎You'll be so tight, so fucking perfect, that wolf in his head growls.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎His heart thumps louder through her matebond, almost luring her in to win him once and for all. With one more rough kiss to his pulse, she opens her mouth and begins to bite. Her fingers curl deeper into his hair and skin, pulling the silky threads as she gradually clamps down her jaw.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Little more," he murmurs, sighing as the bite settles in.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Elowen's teeth break his skin, and droplets of crimson blood trickle onto her lips and tongue. He tastes nothing like the metallicness of blood, but sweet berries that boost her endorphins in multitudes. Her body melts into him until she's limp, pressing closer as she keeps sinking her teeth in.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎His arms strengthen around her, his position becoming protective as she officiates her claim on the alpha.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Elowen," he breathes into the midnight air like an oath, three syllables of a sound so divine.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Her name opens the gates into Morrow's aura, a full cyclone that envelops her in the haze of him. Every thought, every desire, every impulse whelms her in his tide. She breaks her bite, gasping at the new blood surging through her. It's like he's everywhere within her, and no amount of mental blockades will keep her out.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Morrow's palm finds her maroon hair, ushering her back to the bite mark on his throat. His breathing remains heavy, almost desperate.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Remember what I said. Deepen the bite.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎As her bond to Morrow fortifies, she continues to taste the rich blood that flows through his veins. Although sweet, he tastes of power and strength, of resilience and dominance. Her grip in his hair and shoulders tightens, and she's certainly he'll leave this bedroom with scars from her nails. He growls in delight, one broken with a strained moan and a lewd grunt.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She takes her teeth from his flesh, running her tongue along the rim of her mouth as he drops her head to the pillow.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Good girl," he murmurs, then seals his words with a kiss upon her crimson red lips.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Black wings flutter as her tongue battles against his own, wringing every sultry sound that he can from her. He wants her in every way, shape, and form. He wants to throw her over his shoulder and never leave her side, for fear if he does, he'll lose what he just gained.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Morrow props himself upward, one hand beside her pointed fae ear as he hungrily drinks up her kiss, and the other...

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Her hand trails down his arm, down against the veins in his wrist until he finds his hand fisted around his cock, pumping it angrily as a way to get himself to his peak.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Their kiss breaks, a timid blush overcoming his cheeks. "I can't—" Grunt. "—fucking—" Grunt. "—get off without—"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She silences him with a quick peck, then alleviates his aching wrist by wrapping her own slender fingers around his thick shaft. He's desired this for too long, so long that he's caught up in his own fantasies of her that his own wrist will fall off before giving him the pleasure he seeks.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎It only takes two pumps of her hand before he becomes undone.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎He thrusts viciously into her fist, losing all composure and grapple on his restraint. His release shoots from him and onto her dress, onto her stomach, dousing her palm. All he needed was his mate's touch for him to unravel in full. Satisfaction brims his sharp features, a sight so unknown to her when he's always been so tense. His cock softens within her palm as he buries his face into the crook of her neck, but only for a moment before the excitement of her causes it to stiffen.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎He breathes her in like he'd never taken a breath before, his teeth grazing that sweet fragile spot where her matebond to him will be sanctified. She's done her part and submitted to the bond, taking his blood so it unifies with her own. Now, it's time for him to do the same.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She closes her eyes tight, wincing as if to expect a giant chomp to her flesh. He'll be animalistic to her, owning his dominance with full supremacy.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Just get it over with," she breathes, bracing herself for impact.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Instead, Morrow places the most tender kiss on the spot he will bite, slowing her heart down in a matter of seconds.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎He chuckles, his tone laced with warmth. "I'm not marking you tonight."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"But I marked you."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"That's because I was ready for it."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She pouts. "So am I."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"No you're not. You still have thoughts of running away. I can tell." He kisses her lips, then jaw, distracting her with his beautiful affection. "When you're ready to give me you, I'll be there to give you everything in return."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"It doesn't seem fair," she murmurs.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Then let me make it up to you." Open mouth kisses dust down the column over her throat, then over her barren shoulders. He nips at her collarbone before continuing his descent. "Close your eyes and let me taste you."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She hums as she recalls the way he devoured her dripping core on the night of the harvest's moon festival. He will ravage her in every wolfish way, marking her with the message that she belongs to the alpha.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Under the moon's glow, he worships her. Her body becomes the altar, and the alpha bows at her every dictation. Her hands fall down his sculpted back muscles until she's clutching and pulling at his hair. He's ethereal, whimsical, that fragment of light inside of him shining so bright that he'll transform into a constellation of stars. He cradles her like she's worth more than any golden crown, hooking one of her legs and stretching it wide over his shoulder. How could she know the image of Morrow submitting would be an image so revered?

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Elowen releases a sighing moan when the bedroom door swings open.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Thorn.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Thorn's chest heaves, fury consuming every fibre of his body. "I warned you about that fucking mattress."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Morrow lifts his head, firefly green eyes dissipating behind raging black pupils. He bares his pincer canines, growling with outrage at the fae intruder. Cursed wings stretch out to shelter her from under his body, instinctive protection, although she's not the one that's completely bare to the buttocks.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎If Thorn hasn't learned his lesson here, it's that nothing can piss a were-wyng off more than interrupting his time with his mate.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Thorn marches straight into the room towards the bed. Before Morrow can pounce, the fae utilises his magic and hauls Morrow off the bed by the base of his wings, somehow putting Morrow's claws into a bind.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Off to the doorstep you go, hound," he spits at the alpha.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Morrow jostles within Thorn's arms, but the fae's magic remains inevitably stronger than his own were might. Thorn shoves him out of the room, curses slewing from both of their mouths as she hears footsteps trudge down the staircase, almost pushed by a gust of Thorn's magic.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Thorn returns to the doorway, his aged grey eyes finding Elowen with blood-stained lips sitting upright on the twin bed. He shakes his head in disbelief.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"I don't wanna know," he grumbles, then slams the door shut.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Elowen stares at that closed door; first, utterly dumbfounded that Thorn just tossed Morrow to the doorstep, and secondly, amused at the image of a naked Morrow grumbling on the front porch. Although the night's been so bizarre, she's disappointed that her time with Morrow got cut short. Yet, down their bond, his rash thoughts of her keep her arousal heightened.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She pulls herself from the bed, disrobing from her night dress stained in Morrow's release and into something fresher. She tosses the dress to the side, bathing in the rays of moonlight cascading over her bare body. Through the window, she gazes up at the crescent moon, wondering how it could possibly glow so bright.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Open up the fucking window. I'm not done, Morrow sends down their bond.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎The silhouette of a winged-man lands on a small ledge outside the window, black wings tucking in seamlessly behind him. Witches runes glow in the night's light, a sight so bewitching to her, and the mischief lacing his sharp features ignites her bond with giddy.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎With a grin and laugh, she hoists up the old wooden window, lacing her arms around his shoulders and pulling the alpha into the room. Their mouths begin a conquest of kisses and tongue, velvet stroking velvet as they stumble back towards the twin bed. Their bare bodies rub against one another, her's bones and flesh while his is sculpted decadence. Neither of them care about volume, vocalising every hint of pleasure writhing within their bond.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎He pauses the kiss, his meadow hues set ablaze. "My always, I have a promise to fulfil."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Multiple orgasms later, Elowen finally falls asleep tucked under the weight of her mate, bound by blood under the sovereignty of the moon.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

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i love this chapter, mostly because it lets morrow and elowen deal with more personal and intimate things (along with the physical stuff hehe). but i also think this is the beginning of a big change for morrow. there's no guard he can set up against elowen now, and his bond to elowen will forever be heightened. do you think she'll ever be truly ready to let morrow do the same?

a lot is happening in the world of 'Sparrow' moving forward, so i appreciate all your comments, votes, and shares!

ivy <3