Chapter 81 – Alone at Last

The moon hung high in the sky, casting its silver glow over the pack as laughter and music echoed through the grounds. The energy had shifted since the confrontation—lighter now, warmer. His people surrounded Giselle with tentative smiles and curiosity, no longer with suspicion or fear.

Rowan watched from the edge of the crowd, his arms folded as his gaze tracked every movement she made. Her soft laugh as Charlie said something only they could hear, the graceful way she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, the easy way she held herself now—finally safe, finally seen.

‘Enough watching,’ his wolf growled in his mind, low and impatient. ‘We’ve waited long enough. She is ours. Go to her.’

“Let her enjoy this moment,” Rowan replied silently, dragging his eyes away from her long enough to take a breath. “She deserves to feel this acceptance without me pulling her away.”

‘You think she feels whole without us at her side? Do you feel whole?’ The words struck him in the chest. No… he didn’t. Not completely. ‘Then stop playing noble and take what’s ours. Now.’

Rowan ran a hand through his hair, jaw clenching. The primal pull was getting harder to resist, the bond between them a live wire humming beneath his skin. Every time his gaze landed on her, his body responded—tightening, needing.

He gave in.

The crowd parted around him as he strode across the space, all sound dimming under the thud of his heartbeat in his ears. Giselle turned toward him just as he reached her, as if she felt him before she saw him.

Their eyes locked—and the look in hers nearly undid him.

Heat flared in her golden gaze, unmistakable and unguarded. Her chest rose and fell in a sharp breath, and the soft smile that curved her lips did nothing to hide the hunger beneath it.

“You’ve been staring at me all night,” she murmured, her voice low and teasing.

“I’ve been trying to behave,” Rowan said, stepping close enough that their chests almost brushed, “but my wolf has other ideas.”

Her lips curved, a playful spark flickering in her eyes. “And what do you want, Alpha?”

He leaned in, brushing his lips near the shell of her ear, just enough to make her breath hitch. “You. Alone. Now.”

Her breath caught as Rowan’s words ghosted across her ear, and when she turned to meet his gaze, her pupils were blown wide, her wolf rising just beneath the surface. Without another word, she gave him a small, knowing nod.

He didn’t wait.

Rowan’s hand slipped around her waist, fingers curling into her hip as he pulled her firmly to his side. The weight of his arm was possessive, protective—exactly how she wanted it. Around them, the crowd sensed the shift in energy, laughter softening into murmurs and smirks, knowing looks exchanged between mated pairs. No one stopped them as they slipped out of the clearing and into the darkness of the woods leading to the Alpha’s home.

Every step was a fight against instinct. His wolf paced eagerly in his mind, practically snarling with anticipation.

‘Mine. Ours. She is finally ours.’

He pushed open the door to his private quarters and ushered her inside, closing it softly behind them. The sudden quiet wrapped around them like a cocoon, broken only by their breathing—shallow, charged.

Giselle turned toward him, bathed in the golden firelight spilling from the hearth. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips parted slightly. Her eyes searched his as she reached up, fingertips brushing across the side of his face.

“I thought I’d lost you,” she whispered, voice trembling.

“You almost did.” Rowan leaned into her touch. “But you brought me back.”

She gave a shaky laugh, though tears shimmered in her eyes. “I didn’t know if it would work. I just… I couldn’t let you go.”

“You saved me,” he said, his voice thick, and he cupped her jaw gently. “You fought for me. Even when I couldn’t remember you, even when I…” He broke off, swallowing hard. “I don’t deserve that kind of devotion.”

“Yes, you do,” she said fiercely, stepping closer. “Because I saw who you really were—even when others tried to hide him from me.”

Rowan lowered his forehead to hers, their breath mingling. “Then let me show you that I’m still him.”

Their lips met, slow and sweet. Not rushed or frantic—but deep, drawn-out, and full of everything that had been broken between them and was now being stitched back together. She melted into him, her hands sliding up around his shoulders, her body fitting perfectly against his.

When they broke apart, Rowan lifted her into his arms effortlessly and carried her to the bed. He didn’t rush, didn’t toss her down or tear at her clothes. Instead, he laid her down gently and slid in beside her, tucking her into the warmth of his body. Her fingers tangled in his shirt, clinging.

They lay in silence for a long moment, heartbeats in sync, foreheads pressed together.

Rowan shifted beside her, his hand trailing along her side, fingers brushing the soft fabric of her top. The flickering firelight played shadows across her face, illuminating the faint shine of tears still clinging to her lashes. There was a moment where he just looked at her—really looked at her—and saw everything he’d nearly lost.

Everything that still felt too good to be real.

Giselle’s breath hitched as his hand came up to cup her cheek. His thumb brushed across her skin, warm and calloused, grounding her. When his golden eyes met hers, there was no uncertainty in them anymore. No hesitation.

Just Rowan. Her Rowan.

He leaned in slowly, giving her time to stop him if she needed to. But she didn’t. Her gaze flicked to his lips a heartbeat before he closed the distance and pressed his mouth to hers.

The kiss was slow, unhurried—like he had all the time in the world now that she was safe in his arms. His lips moved against hers with a reverence that made her chest ache, his other hand sliding to her waist to pull her closer.

She sighed into him, her fingers threading through his dark hair and holding him there, needing the connection as much as the air in her lungs.

Rowan’s heart thundered in his chest, not from lust or adrenaline, but from something deeper—something raw and anchoring.

‘Ours,’ his wolf whispered in his mind, content and calm for the first time in what felt like ages.

He broke the kiss only to press another softer one against her jaw, then her temple.

“I’m never letting you go again,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

“You won’t have to,” she whispered back, her voice steady with conviction. “I’m yours.”

Rowan's lips found hers again—this time with more urgency, more need.

The gentleness from before faded as something primal surged between them, a shared hunger that had been simmering under the surface for far too long. His mouth moved over hers, claiming, tasting, as if he was making up for every second they’d spent apart. Giselle responded with a soft gasp, her fingers tugging at the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer still.

His hands weren’t idle. They roamed her body slowly, learning every dip and curve as though it was the first time and the last all in one. Fingers traced her waist, then splayed over her back, drawing her flush against him. Her body arched into his, heat flaring between them with every touch.

“Giselle,” he breathed against her lips, his voice a deep rasp of longing and restraint. “You drive me mad…”

Her breath trembled as she met his eyes, pupils dark with desire and something far deeper. “Then don’t hold back.”

His growl was soft, vibrating through her bones, and his hands tightened at her hips. The kiss deepened, became frantic and consuming—less like a reunion and more like a vow sealed with heat and breath and heartbeat.

His touch became more desperate with every glide of his hand over her body. The urge to complete the bond with mating surged through his system, making him feral. A guttural growl reverberates up his chest as he deepens the kiss.

His tongue moved past her parted lips, taking more of her with each second that passed between them. His hand moved up from her waist, relishing the way her body shivers as he makes his way up her side until he is resting against her breast. 

Nerves threaten to take over the longer he delays their union, but the instinct to mate becomes too strong to ignore. Nothing else mattered in the moment except for making sure that every wolf in the area knows exactly who she belongs to. 

Giselle nipped at his chin gently, a frustrated growl escaping her as she looked up at him. “After everything we have been through, have you still not figured out that I am not as breakable as I look?” Her hungry gaze bores into him. “Quit holding back with me, Alpha.”