Chapter 25

Bruin lay next to Willow on his bed, tracing circles over her arm as they talked softly about the worlds between them. It was late and he hadn’t slept, but he wasn’t tired. Neither was she, she said. There was so much to learn. He had to get her mother and Wade together soon, so they could talk about the angel, Azerbaizan. Or maybe not. Maybe that was the BOGI’s job.

He trembled with the force of the opposite thought that came to him. Rogue thinks it’s you. So does Willow. Could it be?

“Hey,” he whispered to Willow, “You’re a One True Mate, so you should have a pendant.”

She sat up. “A pendant?”

He held his thumb and forefinger an inch apart. “Jewelry. About yay high. With an angel on one side and, well, I guess yours would have a bear on the other.”

She pushed yards of brown hair out of her face. “The shiftsegen. I think I do. I know where it is. But I haven’t seen it yet.” She pulled at him. “We should go get it. Right now.”

He nodded.

Since it was so late at night, the traffic was non-existent and they made it to Willow’s place in fifteen minutes, Bruin first telling Mac where they were going in ruhi, so he could notify Bruin’s guard, or Willow’s guard rather. He’d requested one when they’d left Shay’s delivery. He would take no more chances with Willow’s safety. He’d been surprised to find out the guard was Mac and Rogue and two patrol officers. Everyone else had been busy, he’d said. They didn’t need sleep, he’d said. Too much going on.

They pulled into the driveway of Willow’s house and Bruin cut the engine. Willow glanced nervously up the hill. “The lights are off,” she said. “Mom’s sleeping. So we should be quiet.”

He could do that. He and Willow made it up the porch steps and into the house quickly, and she went right to the kitchen. She grabbed a step-stool from the pantry and climbed up to the top step, digging into a cabinet over the fridge. She handed Bruin cooking tool after cooking tool until she found what she wanted. A pitcher of some sort.

Willow returned to the floor, holding the container up, whispering. “It’s in here. I saw it in my mother’s memories.”

Bruin held his breath. She took off the top, reached in, and touched what was inside, drawing it out, her face expectant, then puzzled. She put the pitcher on the counter and held up the pendant, looking at it, her expression saying she had expected something to happen and it didn’t.

Bruin, on the other hand, felt as if he’d been pile-drived into the floor. The pendant twirled around and around, and when it brushed against Willow’s arm, the red glow falling from the bear’s eyes played over her skin and hair, but that wasn’t what caught Bruin’s attention.

The pendant. The bear. It was his very own bear face he saw in the jewelry. It was him.

“What?” Willow asked urgently. “What’s going on?”

“The bear,” he muttered. “It is the BOGI.”

Willow looked confused, but she responded to his words and not his thoughts. She pulled at his shirt with her free hand, staring at him with open adoration and a bit of pique. “It must be you, Bruin, you’re the BOGI.”

Which went against everything Bruin had ever been told, but he knew she was right. Bruin gathered his mate into his arms, trapping the pendant between them. His voice came out deeper and rougher, catching her attention immediately. “When you look at me like that, you, the most beautiful, exquisite, sweetest, softest, smartest, kindest woman I’ve ever met, I can believe it. I do believe it.”

She melted. “Oh, Bruin.”

Her scent deepened from sweet honey, to rich, flavorful honey dripping over fresh, wild berries and his insides heated from it. His mate. His female. She wanted him like he wanted her. There would be no BOGI swooping in to take her, to demand her, to draw her away in a fair fight for her affections. It was him. It was all him and she’d wanted him before either one of them knew it.

Such a gift he’d been given, and he would work the rest of his life to be worthy of it. But first…

He pinned his mate against the refrigerator, arms by her sides. The pendant dropped to the floor, and the noise that came out of him might have been purring, or it might have been straight-up growling. She gasped and bared her neck to him. “Yes, yes, don’t stop.”

Oh he wasn’t going to stop. He fell on her, growling against her skin. “Willow, my Willow. You're the most beautiful woman on the planet and I plan to fall to my knees before your exquisiteness every day from now until the end of time.” His cock pulsed thickly and grew to its full length, bursting at the front of his pants. He pressed it against her and she gasped again, then bucked her hips into it.

Yes. Yes. Just like that, Willow. You’re mine. He snarled, then the sound softened to his purr, and he kissed her, took her lips as was his right. He pulled away when her body trembled. “Don’t be scared of my aggression, Willow. Say the word, one word from you and I stop without question. You control me utterly. But without that word, your body is mine, to take, to use as long as I repay my debt. I can take what I want from it, and I will. My pound of sweet, Willow flesh, that I plan on feasting on tonight.” He ran his tongue along the seam of her lips, punctuating his statement. He would feast on his mate, wring so much pleasure from her body she would pass out from it.

Willow cried out and bucked her hips, her scent flaring sharply. “Not scared,” she breathed.

His mouth watered to taste her but there was no hurry. They had the rest of their lives. He brought his hand to her chin, caressing, gazing. This was right. Everything about this was right, except maybe the place. Time to take her home.

She stretched out her neck, curling into his hand. He placed his fingers on one side of her soft throat and his thumb on the other, only grazing the skin there. She was so delicate, every part of her, dainty, sexy, mouth-watering. He leaned forward and placed kisses across her collarbone.

“I’m taking you home,” he purred against her neck.

“Yes,” was all she could say.

But then Mac broke into his thoughts. Bru, we got a situation.

If he’d been a cursing man, he would have cursed his friend; instead he answered decisively. Go.

Baby time again, my bear friend. We gotta head back. Ella’s about to blow, and they all sound worried as fuck. There’s something they aren’t telling us.

Bruin marked his place on Willow’s neck with his tongue, then gazed into her eyes. “We’re going to have to put this on hold. Your sister is in labor.”

Willow quickly wiped her disappointment from her face and didn’t miss a beat. She grabbed the pendant from the floor and shoved it in her pocket. “Which sister?”