Page 74 of Alpha Charmed

My magic answers every touch, every kiss, every whispered word. The herbs growing wild now, spreading across surfaces, filling the room with green life.

“Your magic is organizing my bedroom,” he observes between kisses.

“It’s a nervous habit.”

“You’re nervous?”

“I’m overwhelmed.” Honest. Raw. “In the best possible way.”

His smile is wicked, satisfied. “Then let me overwhelm you more.”

The claiming mark on my shoulder aches with urgency. The one from the public claiming—incomplete, a promise rather than a seal. Now it’s demanding more. Demanding completion.

“Caius.” His name comes out broken. “I need⁠—”

“I know what you need.” His teeth scrape my shoulder, right over the mark. “I’ve always known.”

He bites.

Not gentle. Not careful. A wolf claiming his mate, marking her in the most primal way possible. Pain flares, bright and sharp, and then⁠—

Completion.

The mark burns itself deeply into my flesh, permanent and unbreakable. And with it comes the full awareness of him—not his thoughts, not his emotions, but his presence. His location. The absolute certainty that no matter where I go, I will always know where to find him.

My magic surges in response. Without conscious thought, without intention, power pours from me and into him—searing my own mark into his skin, claiming him as thoroughly as he’s claimed me.

“Anouk—” His voice breaks. His whole body shudders.

“Mine.” The word is fierce, possessive, utterly certain. “You’re mine now, wolf.”

“Always.” He captures my mouth again. “Always yours.”

Afterward, we lie tangled in his sheets.

The cabin around us has been transformed. Herbs grow from every surface—from the bedside table, from cracks in the floorboards, from the windowsill where moonlight pools.

My magic, at peace at last. Anchored. Complete.

“Your magic did that.” Caius traces the claiming mark on my shoulder, fresh and sensitive. “All of it.”

“I couldn’t control it.”

“You didn’t need to.” He gathers me against his chest, and I let him—let myself be held, be comforted, be small in a way I haven’t allowed in years. “It knew what it wanted. So did I.”

“What did you want?”

“You.” Simple. Certain. “Just you. Always you.”

He holds me tighter still, until my head rests on his chest and his heartbeat echoes in my ear. “We’ve always filled silence with cleverness. Tonight, we can just… be.”

“Being is surprisingly difficult.”

“Only because you’re not used to it.” His fingers trace lazy patterns on my back. “Give it time. You’ll learn to stop thinking so much.”

“I never stop thinking. It’s a curse.”

“It’s a gift.” He kisses the top of my head. “Your mind is one of the things I love most about you.”