28. Ethan

Fucking beautiful.

Words fail to capture the essence of the woman before me. Here, in this moonlit clearing, I'd bind our fates together a thousand times over with the moon as our witness and not harbor a single regret. The magic of the night wraps around us, making this moment feel sacred. The air is charged with ethereal magic, making every leaf and shadow thrum with unseen power.

She is transformed yet unaware of her new form. For the first time, she's a wolf—magnificent, powerful, and utterly captivating. Her fur is a rich tapestry of browns, dappled with darker spots that mimic freckles, but it's her eyes—deep and soulful—that pin me in place. My Ava's eyes. They assess me, weighing and measuring, caught between her newfound animal instincts and the woman I know.

The mate I love.

I approach her with a caution that belies my racing heart, each step measured and deliberate. Lowering my head in a gesture of submission, I expose my throat to her—a silent declaration of my trust. She could tear me apart and end my existence with one swift movement, and I'd welcome it if it meant being this close to her spirit.

Her fur shimmers under the moonlight—a breathtaking sight that sends a visceral shiver through me. I can almost feel her confusion, her awe at her own transformation. It's a critical moment, and I shift back to my human form, the night air caressing my bare skin.

Whispers escape me, a blend of encouragement and raw hope as I try to coax her back. The first shift is a precarious journey, one fraught with danger, especially when fueled by such strong emotions.

When she shifts, the sound of her sob tearing through the silent forest, I catch her, pulling her into the safety of my arms. Her skin feels warm against mine, a stark contrast to the cool night air. She curls into me, her body a perfect fit against my own, naked and miraculously healed.

Her ankle, previously broken and swollen, now shows no sign of injury, and her wounds have vanished as if they were never there, but the blood smeared across her face tightens my chest, and a violent surge of protectiveness overwhelms me. Imagining what could have happened, what her father might have done, ignites a fierce promise within me—Elijah Castellon will face hell itself if he laid a hand on her.

I suspect he did. He won't survive the week.

Brody's concern filters through our bond, like a silent vibration of worry that mirrors my own. He and Tyler hover at the edge of the clearing, their presence a constant pressure at the back of my mind. I feel their need to see Ava and confirm her safety as acutely as if it were my own. I want to hoard this moment and keep her all to myself, but I relent, understanding their need.

As Ava's cries dwindle to soft whimpers, the night seems to embrace us, the earth beneath warming slightly as if offering its own form of solace. I brush kisses across her forehead, my hands tracing the contours of her body.

From the corner of my eye, I catch the ethereal green shimmer of my brother's eyes, a ghostly glow that seems to draw the very essence of the moon. He's holding a red flower between his teeth, a vivid splash of color against the monochrome tapestry of the night. His whine, a melody of longing and complexity, dances through the cool air, intertwining with the scent of pine and earth.

Ava shifts restlessly, turning her head toward Tyler. Her gasp clenches something within me. A surge of jealousy, bitter and biting, courses through my veins. I force my gaze toward Tyler, attempting to see what she sees. He's a contrast of shadow and light in wolf form, his fur a patchwork of black and white that melds into the darkness. Muscles ripple beneath his sleek coat as he lowers himself in an effort to appear less imposing and dominant.

Her laughter, a sound that feels like light breaking through the shadows, washes over me, softening the sharp edges of my jealousy. Tyler, sensing the shift in mood, lays the flower down beside us with a grace that belies his size. Ava reaches for it, her fingers delicate and sure, and relief floods me as she remains within the circle of my arms. The thought of releasing her, even for a moment, feels like a concession I'm not ready to make.

As she touches the flower, another wave of jealousy washes over me, but this time, I recognize it for what it is—a desire to be part of their world, their connection. I've kept myself from feeling this with her, but after seeing it with Tyler, I want what they have.

Brody's presence is announced not just by his size, which rivals my own, but also by the soft crunch of leaves underfoot as he approaches. His fur, rich with tawny shades, catches the moonlight, casting him in a regal, almost mythical light. His blue eyes, vigilant and piercing, scan the darkness, ever watchful for the threats that lurk in the shadows of our borrowed sanctuary.

This moment, charged with unspoken understanding, signifies a shift in our relationship. Acceptance flows through our bond, a tangible strength that deepens our connection. Ava's voice, fragile yet clear, pierces the silence. "We aren't safe here, are we?" she asks, her words a delicate thread of vulnerability.

"No one will hurt you," I vow, the air thick with the scent of silver and gunpowder. Her sigh fills me with fierce determination. The trust of one's mate is a treasure beyond measure for an alpha.

As the others return to their human forms, their eyes reflecting shared pain and resolve, we draw closer, a silent oath of protection and unity under the celestial glow. Despite the precariousness of our situation, I find myself embracing the path and choices that have led us here.

We should hear what happened, Brody suggests, his voice a gentle nudge in our mental bond.

Tyler whimpers a little, even in human form, then he explains, We didn't leave her. We surrounded the house, waiting and watching, and when the human opened the door to let Ava free, I knew something was wrong. Something awful happened.

"You were right," she whispers, pressing her back to my chest. One leg is bent over mine, and the other is stretched out to rest over Tyler's. Brody's eyes keep flicking to her shoulder, where a bullet grazed her, but it was just a graze. Yes, it was a silver bullet, but she's okay. I won't think about what could have happened. I can't.

"What do you mean?" I brush my lips across her other shoulder, my canines itching to mark her as mine.

"I shouldn't have gone," she whispers into the night, "but I think…" She pauses. "I needed to."

Tension crackles around us as Brody hesitates, then he finally speaks up. "May I?" His fingers lightly trace the side of Ava's wound. "It's just a graze, but it needs to be cleaned," he mutters, more to himself than any of us.

Ava reaches out and links her fingers with his, knowing he needs her to touch him. "They never planned to let me go," she starts, her voice catching on a hiccup as she fights through her emotions. "My father used my injuries against me, thinking I wouldn't be able to run." Her words are laced with a venom that makes my blood boil. "He married me off," she spits out, the disgust palpable in her tone.

"Ava," I whisper, my voice a low growl of urgency, "I need you to tell me everything that happened."

Her nod fills me with dread, and as she leans back against me, she starts to unravel her story. Her voice is flat and emotionless—a stark contrast to the turmoil I know she's feeling inside. I stay silent, letting her narrate her ordeal in her own way.

We all stay quiet, the bond between us muted in a collective effort to absorb her words without letting our anger frighten her, but make no mistake, inside, I'm seething.

He's going to die, Brody states, cold and decisive.

I can't help but agree. Tyler's emotions are a jumbled, chaotic mess. He doesn't have as much control as the rest of us, and his anger shoots from him like fireworks.

"Then he married us," Ava finishes, her voice breaking under the weight. I tighten my grip around her, offering whatever warmth and protection I can as she shivers in my arms. "There's no way that's a legal marriage, right?"

"I don't believe so," Brody replies, his tone clinical yet concerned, his brow furrowing in thought.

"I didn't sign anything," Ava grinds out between clenched teeth as realization dawns on her. "My dad, he knew… He knew I might shift," she says, piecing together the betrayal with a clarity that cuts deeply. "They all did."

"Fuck," Tyler explodes, the word full of disbelief and dawning horror. He runs his hands through his hair, again and again, before he tugs the strands. "Fuck," he repeats, this time with a shift in tone. Her father knew Ava might have a fated mate. He waited, gambling on whether she'd shift, he says only to us.

The realization hangs heavily between us, but we don't dwell on it. As much as I want to tear back to that mansion and unleash hell, Ava is my priority.

"Brody," I snap out, my voice harsher than intended, "shift and get the car."

He gives Ava a lingering look before he shifts seamlessly, sprinting into the night. The distant howls of dogs fill the silence he leaves behind.

Ava winces, pressing her hand to her ear. "Everything is damn loud," she complains, a hint of amazement underlining her discomfort.

"That's your shifter senses," Tyler explains, his voice softer as he crouches before her, gently cupping her face with his hands. "You fucking shifted."

Her eyes light up with a mixture of excitement and disbelief. Fuck, I love seeing the anticipation in her eyes. "Do you think I can do it again?" she asks, her curiosity piquing as she nibbles her bottom lip.

"Of course you can!" Tyler's enthusiasm breaks through the tension, though his glance toward me is filled with unspoken warnings. "But we need to get you to safety first…and find you some clothes."

"Oh." She glances down at herself, then at Tyler. Her sudden realization of her nakedness and the proximity to us sparks a reaction in me that's both primal and immediate. "Oh." As she shifts her weight, I'm painfully aware of her every movement. It causes my cock to grow hard, not that it wasn't when she sat in my lap, but now, with her little micromovement, I could hammer in a nail.

I carefully help her to her feet, hyperaware of her gaze skirting away from mine. "Oh!" she exclaims, surprised at her own healed ankle. "It's healed."

"Welcome to shifter life," Tyler says, a grin breaking through the gravity of the moment as he scoops her up. Her laughter, though shadowed by what just happened, lightens.

"Wait, Tyler!" she protests, and he sets her down, though not without a quick, stolen kiss that sparks a flash of jealousy within me. Before he runs off, he sweeps up the red flower and places it in her wild hair.

Rolling my eyes, I turn to him. "Go help Brody. We need to find a way out of here…and deal with those dogs."

He grumbles but complies, shifting into his wolf form and disappearing into the night, leaving us alone.

Quiet wraps around us, seeping into my bones with a sense of peace beneath the stars. Because I can't tear my eyes away from her, I look over at Ava. Her brown eyes, brimming with unshed tears, gaze back at me.

"Thank you," she whispers, her voice a gentle breeze in the still night. She steps closer, bridging the gap between us.

"For what?" I frown.

She closes the distance between us. Her defiance, her courage, only heightens the magnetic pull I feel toward her. Her beauty has always been undeniable, but now, it's her unwavering spirit that truly captivates me. Her presence, her very essence, intoxicates me.

"Coming for me," she answers, her gaze locked with mine.

"Did you think I wouldn't?" The words escape me before I can cage them, a mix of hurt and disbelief fueling them. The thought that she might doubt our bond wounds me more than I care to admit.

Her slight frown, a subtle but clear indicator of her doubts, strikes a chord within me. It's a blow, yes, but it also ignites a fierce resolve. She needs to understand that she's never alone—that I, no, that we will always stand by her. "I'll always come for you, Ava."

"I'm starting to realize that." Her soft admission sends a surge of warmth through me. She licks her lips nervously, drawing my attention to her mouth, full and inviting. The primal part of me, the alpha, itches to claim her, to mark her as mine in every conceivable way, but this moment calls for more than raw desire. It demands patience, understanding, and above all, love.

"You think I saved you, but the truth is, you saved me. You gave me something worth fighting for—a purpose beyond power and a bond that defies reason." I inhale her gasp of surprise, savoring her taste. "Claiming you goes beyond possession, Ava. It's a vow to always be your shield, your unwavering protector."

"Ethan," she murmurs, stepping closer, erasing any space that remained between us. Her body against mine is a call too potent to resist, but I do. I don't want to scare her or further hurt her in any way.

Torn between the man and the alpha within, each clamoring for a different course of action, I wrestle with my restraint, but her next words obliterate every last shred of it.

"Kiss me." Her whisper, barely louder than the rustle of leaves underfoot, is all the permission my heart needs. I close the distance, our lips meeting in a kiss that promises more than words ever could.

It is her claim on me.

As our lips part, the moon overhead seems to shine down on us in a magical way. Ava's eyes, alight with fire and acceptance, meet mine. "I believe you now," she says, her declaration more potent than any vow of love.

My response is immediate, my lips finding hers again, all hesitation obliterated by her taste. Her arms tighten around my neck, her body melding against mine perfectly, as if we were created for each other. This physical connection, so profound and all-consuming, sends shivers through me.

"Ava," I rasp out, desperate for her to understand just how much I crave her touch.

Her lips curl into a smirk, and without further prompting, she lowers gracefully to her knees. The sight of her on the forest floor beneath me sends another wave of heat coursing through me—one part possession, and two parts overwhelming lust.

Even before her hand reaches out to seize me, I can feel the heat of anticipation. My cock twitches in response, throbbing with a raw hunger that echoes the silent plea in her eyes.

The moment she wraps her fingers around my shaft, a guttural moan is ripped from my lungs. All coherent thought shatters as the primal desire within me roars to life. Her touch, soft yet firm, sends shivers down my spine and offers an all too sweet promise.

"I want to," she pleads, her eyes telling me she needs this, perhaps even more than I do, to chase away the shadows of another's touch. Her tongue darts out, lapping up the bead of pre-cum dripping from my head.

"Ava," I murmur, torn because while part of me aches to erase her pain, another part, a darker part, yearns to annihilate the source of her anguish through blood and death.

I can give her control.

Ava doesn't hold back when her tongue finally makes contact with my sensitive skin. She slowly licks up the underside of my cock, deliberately savoring each bead of pre-cum that drips from the tip. This simple act alone has me throwing my head back in ecstasy, every vein in my body pulsing with desire.

"Ava…" I gasp her name like a prayer when she finally takes me into her mouth. The warmth that surrounds me is intoxicating.

As she looks at me, her gaze hooded, and parts her lips to envelop me, a desperate grasp for stability sends my hands searching for a nearby tree trunk that isn't there. Instead, I dig my fingers into my thighs to anchor myself as Ava destroys me with her touch.

Sensing my struggle to maintain control, Ava drags herself slowly off my cock, each agonizing millimeter increasing the burning need inside me tenfold, only to take me back deep and fast enough that it feels like a punch to my gut. I can scent her arousal on the air, sweet like the most decadent dessert, which pushes me to the edge of my own control.

"Fuck!" The word leaves my mouth in a harsh grunt as pleasure crackles through my veins. Losing myself to her is too damn easy. She knows how to work my cock, her tongue swirling around me before sucking harshly, eliciting another groan from me.

I want to fuck her mouth, but the fear of hurting her keeps me in check, so when she places one hand at the base of my cock and begins stroking in time with her mouth's movements, I can't help but let my instincts take over.

"Stop," I snarl hoarsely, unable to withstand her assault any longer. Ava only tightens her grip, her gaze defiant as she works me harder and faster, and just like that, every last shred of control snaps within me.

Her lips pop off of my cock. "I want this," she purrs, her eyes blazing with an unspoken challenge. "I need this."

Unable to resist, I weave my fingers into her hair, holding her gently as she draws me deeper, her movements more desperate. Every muscle taut, I stand on the precipice, unable to hold back any longer.

"I'm going to…" The warning goes unheeded as a powerful release rips through me. Shooting my load down Ava's throat, I shudder violently and gasp for breath as waves of pleasure wash over me. The sight of her swallowing every drop I have to offer sends a final jolt of satisfaction coursing through my spent body.

"There's a good fucking girl," I praise, watching as a pleased whimper escapes Ava's lips.

My tempest.

With our gazes locked, an overwhelming sense of possessiveness takes hold of me once more. This woman, my mate, is mine. Beneath the moonlit sky, in our natural element, our bond pulses with life. It's carnal, it's fierce, and it's uniquely ours.

In response to the distant sound of an engine drawing near, Ava pulls back with a smirk—a clear reflection of her newfound confidence and a silent promise of more pleasurable encounters to come.

"That's our ride," she whispers with a raised brow, making my cock stiffen all over again.

In that moment, I know I'm irrevocably falling for this woman, my mate, my equal in every way.