9. Astrid

9

ASTRID

I 'd felt that spark, and from the look on Dean's face, and the way he quickly jerked away from my touch, so had he. My raven sang a song, and for whatever reason, that paired with the spark I'd felt, was all the confirmation I needed to know that Dean was my mate.

A new level of panic tore through me.

My thoughts spiraled out of control, and any chance of calming myself down flew right out the dang window. I couldn't breathe, but all I could think about was that I'd found my mate, and it was him.

Of all people, it had to be Dean Voss.

He wasn't part of my flock. Heck, he wasn't even a raven shifter. He was a lone wolf shifter who couldn't like me any less.

In fact, the man seemed to detest me.

Dizziness set in again as the ground around me rippled with each breath I fought to take. It felt like an elephant had sat on my chest.

Good grief, my whole life had exploded in a single night!

A low growl released from Dean as he continued to stare at me. When I lifted my gaze to lock with his, a deep frown had pulled at his lips.

"Come on, let's get you that glass of water," he said in a huff before standing to his full height and walking toward his open front door.

I lay where I was for a moment, drawing in one shaky breath after another, wondering if I could walk with the dizziness swaying my vision. Too many questions tumbled through my head and too many emotions tore through me.

Why now? Why hadn't I known it was him sooner? Like when we were under Lucius's mind control? Or when I stole his coffee at the coffee shop and made myself look like a raging lunatic?

Heck, what about when I'd eaten at his work that one night and he'd cornered me outside, asking if I was stalking him?

Nothing about this situation made sense.

My raven ruffled her feathers and nudged me. She wanted me to get to my feet and follow him inside, but she also seemed to be telling me I was stupid for not seeing who he was sooner.

I pulled in a deep breath and got to my feet.

Stepping inside Dean's house, I closed the door behind me and leaned against it for support. My legs felt like wet noodles, and my chest felt as though heavy rocks had been stacked against it. Dean was in the kitchen to the left of the living room. He stood at the sink with his back to me, filling a glass of water from the tap. I stared at him, realizing for the first time tonight that he was naked.

How had I never noticed the man was built like a Greek god?

When he spun around to face me, the edge of the counter wasn't high enough to cover his private bits completely, and everything was on full display.

Everything .

He might as well have placed it all on a platter right in front of me. I tried not to stare, but it was impossible. The man had a beautiful body.

"There," he said, his voice still gruff and tense. "Some water."

He set the glass on the bar and nodded to it. The area between his brows bunched together, and he placed his hands on his hips.

What was he thinking? Was he freaking out internally now that he'd learned I was his mate?

"Drink it," he demanded.

I crossed through the living room, heading straight for the glass. Picking it up, I took a sip. The cool water slid down my throat, bringing me back to my body and severing me from the disconnected sensation I'd felt during the peak of my panic attack. There was still a slight amount of pressure in my chest and my breathing remained shallow, but since stepping inside, I'd felt things fade. Being here made my raven feel safe. Relaxed, even.

I knew it was because of him.

Dean folded his arms over his solid chest, his gaze still intense. "Take another sip," he ordered, so I lifted the glass and did as he said. "Feeling better?"

"A little," I admitted.

"Good. Now tell me what the fuck happened back there. Why did Xander attack you? And what were you two doing here in the first place?" His voice was rough around the edges, but an undercurrent of concern warmed his eyes that hadn't been there before.

It caught me off guard, causing me to blurt out the first thing that came to mind: "I can't talk to you until you put on some clothes."

His nakedness was all I could focus on. It made me feel hot and flustered even more than the panic attack had.

Frowning, he started down the hall. "Start talking. I can hear you fine," he called out from over his shoulder.

Right—wolf shifter hearing.

Where should I even start, though?

I took another sip of water and tried to gather my thoughts. "I told you before that Xander was different, that there was something cold and dark about him now, but you either didn't care or didn't believe me."

"Both," he shouted from where he was in the back room.

I frowned. Well, at least he was honest.

"I know Xander better than anyone. He's my brother," I said, pushing forward.

"If I hadn't already known that about you two, I would find it hard to believe after watching him try to kill you in my yard," he countered.

"Like I said, he's different—off." I took another sip of water. "Lucius changed him."

Was there a possibility Lucius was still changing him, even from the grave?

Xander isn't here anymore .

The words replayed through my head, causing goose bumps to prickle across my skin. Possession seemed too far-fetched, but it shouldn't. Not in the world I lived in.

Was that what I was dealing with here? Possession?

Dean returned, now fully dressed in a pair of jeans and a shirt. He leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen and locked eyes with me. "I have a theory, but care to elaborate on that?"

Had Xander tried to get into his head out there, too?

Something in his expression had me thinking he had. The nervous tension I'd felt building as I tried to figure out how to explain what was wrong with Xander in a way that Dean would believe eased.

"I think he's possessed," I blurted.

Dean arched a brow. "Possessed?"

"I know it sounds nuts, but I think Lucius's ghost is somehow inside him. He's making Xander behave the way he is—so hostile and cold. I think that's how he can get inside our heads, too." I paused, waiting for him to tell me otherwise, but he didn't say a single word. Instead, he stared at me. "He whispered something to me out there."

"What?"

"Xander isn't here anymore," I said, feeling a chill creep through me again. When Dean didn't speak, I grew antsy. "Well, what do you think? Do you think that's possible?"

"I think that sucks for him if it's true, but it doesn't matter much because either way—possessed or not—he's got to die now," he uttered point blank.

All the air left my lungs.

"What? No," I spat, scrunching my brows together. "He's my brother, and he's been possessed. We can't kill him. We have to help him."

"First, there is no we," he said, and even as the words came from his mouth, I saw him recoil.

His wolf knew better, same as my raven—there would always be a we now. Dean could fight it all he wanted, but it would always be there.

We were supposed to be together.

We were mates.

"What I mean is, there is no we because you don't have to do anything," he said, running a hand through his dark tousled hair. "I can do it alone, but it needs to be done. Xander can't be allowed to live with that kind of power, possessed or not. Didn't you learn your lesson with the last psycho who had it?"

I had but this was my brother.

"You can't kill him," I insisted. "You have to help me figure out a way to save him."

"Why?" Dean countered. "I get he's your brother, but he's dangerous with that ability, Astrid."

"You're my mate—my raven chose you—and I'm asking for your help with this," I whispered, holding his stare. "Please."

I'd never been one for begging, but right now, it seemed necessary. Dean was stubborn, and once his mind was made up, that was it. Begging for his help might not work, but it was an option and I was willing to try it.

Silence built between us as we continued to hold one another's stare. When his eyes sparked with a dangerous glimmer, I shifted on my feet, bracing myself for what he said next.

"And what about you?" he asked, his voice low.

I blinked, not understanding. "What about me?"

"Do you choose me, Astrid?"

He stepped closer, his eyes falling to my lips, and a craving for him that was undeniable suddenly filled me. I didn't bother to keep the heat out of my words or my eyes when I answered him.

"Yes, I choose you too," I breathed.

Without another word, Dean's lips crashed into mine. At first, they were hard and demanding, but they soon softened as our tongues brushed together sensually. As the kiss deepened, his hands glided down my back before pulling me flush against his hard body. Moans escaped both of us as we continued to explore each other's mouths, tasting and teasing. I dug my fingertips into his shoulders, eager for more.

His strong hands wandered down my body possessively as the velvet touch of his tongue against mine sent electric shockwaves throughout my entire being. When his lips moved to my neck again, trailing soft kisses down the sensitive skin, his hands explored my body. I tilted my head back, gasping as he found that perfect spot below my ear that made my knees go weak.

"Dean," I breathed, my fingers tangling in his dark hair.

He hummed against my throat, the vibrations sending delicious shivers down my spine.

Without breaking contact with my skin, he walked us backward until I felt the cool surface of the kitchen counter pressing into my lower back. In one smooth motion, he lifted me up to sit on the edge and stepped between my legs. His strong hands gripped my thighs, spreading them apart as he pressed himself against me. I could feel his hardness through his jeans. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I drew him closer until there was no space left between us. Our lips met again in a searing kiss, all tongues and teeth and raw desperation.

Never had I wanted someone so much in my life.

Reaching for the hem of his shirt, I tugged it up and over his head impatiently. My hands roamed the newly exposed skin of his chiseled chest and abs reverently. Dean groaned into my mouth as my nails raked lightly down his back. His hands slid farther up my thighs, pushing the fabric of my dress higher, until his fingers danced along the edge of my panties teasingly. A soft moan escaped me. I wanted more. Dean pulled back enough to meet my heated gaze, and his blue eyes darkened with lust.

"Tell me what you want, Astrid," he rasped, his voice rough with need.

"You," I breathed. "I want you."

That was all the encouragement he needed. In a flash, he had my dress pooling around my waist. I shivered as the cool air kissed my overheated skin, my nipples pebbling beneath the sheer fabric of my bra. His gaze skimmed over me, drinking me in.

"So beautiful," he murmured before dipping his head to kiss along the swell of my breasts.

I threaded my fingers through his tousled hair, holding him close as his mouth worked me into a frenzy even more. When he slid his hand up my back and unclasped my bra, he pulled back to stare at me for a moment. My nipples hardened under his intense stare, and he groaned in approval as he leaned down to take one into his mouth. His warm tongue lapped over it, causing a shiver to run through me. He sucked gently at first before increasing the pressure and flicking it with his tongue. I couldn't stop the moan that escaped my lips as I ran my hands through his hair, encouraging him to continue.

While he teased my nipple, his other hand slid up my inner thigh until he reached the elastic of my panties. He slid them down to my ankles next and began to gently explore my folds. My core clenched and quivered as he traced teasing circles around my entrance. I writhed in anticipation, needing more from him.

The man was driving me wild.

"Dean," I breathed.

A low growl spurred from him. "I love it when you say my name."

His head dipped lower, skimming his tongue along my skin while he worked his way down my abdomen. Before he buried his face in my heat, he inhaled deeply and released another low growl that vibrated from somewhere deep inside his chest.

"Mine," he ground out, and then his tongue darted out teasingly, tasting me for the first time and sending shockwaves of pleasure through every nerve ending in my body.

His stubble scraped against my inner thighs and my back arched, sending my pelvis closer to him. I gripped the countertop, my knuckles white from the effort not to lose myself in the pleasure coursing through me at the feel of him tasting me.

When he plunged two fingers inside, stretching and filling me slowly, while continuing to work his magical tongue I nearly lost it. I cried out his name again as he picked up speed, setting a new rhythm that had me panting and almost begging for more.

Everything blurred out of existence. All I could focus on was the pleasure humming through my body at the feel of his suction on my clit and the thrusting of his fingers inside me. Each touch from him sent a jolt of pleasure through me, adding to the building climax tightening in my core.

"Oh, Dean!" I shouted, tugging at his hair.

He increased his efforts, sucking harder on my clit while thrusting his fingers deeper inside me with each stroke. His pace remained steady and swift, pushing me closer to a blissful release. The sensation was too much—too good—and yet I was greedy enough to want it to go on forever.

"Dean, please…" I panted, feeling the edge drawing near, and not knowing what I was even saying.

"You're so fucking beautiful when you beg," he groaned before sucking my clit once more.

My body shuddered in response, my walls contracting around his fingers. I dug my nails into his shoulders and my toes curled as I fell apart.

Once he was certain I was finished, he placed a gentle kiss to my inner thigh and then stood to his full height. He hoisted me into the air and carried me to his room like I weighed nothing. Kicking the door shut behind him, he crossed the room and placed me on his bed. With a sexy hunger flashing through his eyes, he shoved his pants to his ankles in one swift motion, allowing his cock to spring free, and then slid between my legs.

He didn't hesitate before leaning forward to capture one of my nipples between his teeth again—nibbling it lightly as he lined himself up against my entrance. Teasingly, he slowly pushed inside me until he filled me completely. A groan escaped him as he rocked his hips forward, rolling in and out of me at a tantalizingly slow pace. We both cried out at the sheer bliss of it all.

Our hips met in a rhythm that echoed our heartbeats—slow and steady at first before speeding up. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure rocketing through me. Our bodies slapped together, the sound echoing through the room as he pounded into me with more force. My back arched off the bed, and my breathing grew ragged again while his bed squeaked under our movements. Every time he pulled out and pushed back in, I felt him to the core of my being.

It was blissful.

Again, he built me up to another climax effortlessly. His thrusts became harder and faster while he slammed into me without mercy.

"Astrid," he breathed. "You feel so good."

As his movements grew more frenzied, I cried out his name. My nails dug into his shoulders, leaving crescent moons behind as he pushed me higher and higher toward ecstasy. His fingers found their way between us, circling my clit and rubbing it gently while he continued to work his hips.

That was all it took.

Moans turned to cries of pleasure as our climaxes collided like an explosion. My body convulsed around him in pure bliss as he groaned out my name in satisfaction. With waves of pleasure coursing through us in unison, we collapsed onto his bed beside each other. His chest heaved as he pulled me close, wrapping his strong arms around me. I nuzzled into his neck, inhaling his musky scent as my racing heart slowly returned to normal.

For a while, we lay there in content silence, basking in the afterglow of our lovemaking. My fingers traced idle patterns on his sweat-slicked chest while his hand stroked up and down my back soothingly.

I couldn't remember ever feeling this content, this utterly stated and cherished with someone.

Eventually, Dean pressed a tender kiss to my forehead and then tilted my chin up so I would meet his warm gaze. "That was…" he trailed off, seemingly at a loss for words.

"Amazing," I finished for him with a soft smile. "Earth-shattering. Life-changing."

He chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. "All of the above," he agreed, brushing a stray curl away from my face.

He dipped his head and kissed me. It was a tender kiss—beautiful.

Home .

The word vibrated through my mind with an unshakeable certainty. This man was home to me and my raven. He was what we'd been searching for all along without even realizing it.

Dean broke our kiss first, a coy smirk twisting his lips. "I could go again."

"I think I'm going to need something to eat first." I chuckled.

"You're hungry?" He pulled away to look at me, concern flaring through the bright blue of his eyes.

"Starved, actually."

"Let's eat, then," he said, rolling out of bed and pulling on a pair of boxers.

I slid into my dress and followed him into the kitchen.

"I'm big on eating meat and proteins—it's the wolf in me," he said, casting a smirk my way from over his shoulder as he headed to the fridge. "What about you? Please tell me you're not a vegetarian."

"No, I eat meat."

He chuckled, tossing me a heated look. I realized then what I'd said, and my face flamed.

"Good to know," he murmured before shifting his attention back to the contents of his fridge. "Which sounds better—a fajita bowl or chicken and pasta?" he asked, pulling out two Tupperware containers and spinning to face me.

"You meal prep?"

"Why do you sound so shocked by that?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. It seems like something only fitness freaks would do."

"And what about me says I'm not a fitness freak?" He stacked the containers in one hand and flexed the opposite bicep.

His muscles were massive.

"Right. I have no idea what I was thinking," I said, unable to tone down my grin.

"I work out, but that's not why I meal prep. I'm a cook for a living. By the time I get home, the last thing I want to do is cook dinner. My options are to eat out, eat like crap, or not eat at all. Since none of those are particularly good options, I meal prep as much as possible."

That made perfect sense.

"I can understand that. Even though I know it's not the same, I generally don't read the genre I write in," I said. "And I'll take a fajita bowl, please."

He turned back toward the fridge and exchanged one of the Tupperware for another, before moving to the microwave. "You're a writer?"

"Yeah, I'm a ghostwriter for other authors."

"Ghostwriter?" He pressed some buttons on the microwave and then turned to face me, tossing me a confused look. "How does that work?"

It excited me that he was interested in what I did for a living—that he was interested in learning anything about me at all.

"People—other authors—hire me for a fee to write books for them," I explained.

"Doesn't that frustrate you? I mean, you do all the work and they take the credit?"

I shook my head. "Not really. I get paid decently for it. Plus, I find it easier to write for other people."

"Have you ever tried to write for yourself or as yourself?"

My stomach twisted into knots. I knew where this conversation was headed—he was about to give me a lecture on wasting my talent. I'd heard it before. It was the same thing everyone said whenever I mentioned my career choice. Either they thought I was wasting my talent or what I did was unethical.

"I have books of my own I've written. I've just never published them."

"Why not?" he asked as the microwave beeped.

"I don't want to have to do everything that's required to be a published author."

He pulled the first Tupperware from the microwave and stirred it with a fork before handing it to me. Then he placed the second one in the microwave and started it again.

"Like what?" he asked, turning back around to face me.

"Like deciding to publish them myself or hunt for an agent. All the marketing and networking."

It was a lie. That wasn't the truthful answer to his question, and my raven bristled because she didn't like me lying to him about anything.

"Honestly, though," I said, exhaling slowly. "I'm scared of the criticism that comes with releasing under my name. When it's under someone else's, I don't see the negative reviews or comments."

"And if it was under yours, you feel like you'd see it?"

"I'd have no choice," I said. "Readers tag you, email you, and private message you. There's no way to escape it."

I'd never told anyone that before.

"What if they don't say negative things? What if they love your stories instead and reach out to you with praise?" he asked.

I cracked a grin. "I never would have pegged you as an optimist."

"That's because I'm not," he said, a devilish smirk twisting his lips. "I'm a realist. If people are hiring you to ghostwrite for them, I'm willing to bet you have talent, which means you can write a story for yourself readers will enjoy just the same."

He had a point but putting myself out there still seemed scary. It was easier to hide behind someone else's name.

"You're still not liking the idea," he said, pulling his Tupperware from the microwave. "So, create a pen name and publish under it. It would still be your books, and you'd get to keep all the money they make instead of being paid a one-time flat fee. Sounds like a win-win to me."

I took a bite of my meal, enjoying the flavor of the spices he'd seasoned the dish with. "It sounds like a good idea, but I don't have time for marketing my books and everything that goes with it."

"Hire someone," he offered as though it were as simple as that.

Maybe it was, though.

"I'll think about it," I said, taking another bite. "This is good, by the way."

"You thought it wouldn't be?"

"No, I'm just saying."

He winked. "I'm messing with you. Thank you, I'm glad you like it. Now eat up so we can head to bed."

"Excuse me?"

"To sleep, unless you're ready for round two. I'm sure you're exhausted, though. Tonight was eventful to say the least."

"It was, but who said I was sleeping here at all?" I countered, even though my raven and I both wanted to stay.

"Well, you're not going back to your place after what happened with Xander. My wolf won't allow it unless I stay with you. We're already here, so I figured you might as well sleep here tonight."

"Okay." I smiled, not even trying to fight his logic.

My raven wouldn't let me, anyway.

It was funny how, not too long ago, he'd seemed infuriating, and now all I wanted was to be wrapped in his arms.