It didn’t take long to learn the rhythms of the woods.
Days moved quietly in Nikolai’s cabin, his heavy footfalls, the scent of pine and smoke, his lazy rumbling snorts whenever you did something that amused him. You’d grown used to the rasp of his claws against wood, the way he watched you like you were something precious he was afraid to break.
He never touched you with anything but gentle hands. Never took more than you offered.
But he lingered. Oh, he lingered.
Golden eyes following you when you stretched. Breath hitching when you brushed past him. That low, hungry sound deep in his chest when you smiled at him. He was waiting. Patient. Coiled.
And then came the night of the full moon.
You woke to a pressure in the air, thick, humming, heavy. The woods outside felt alive, trembling with something old. The moonlight spilling across the floorboards was almost too bright, silvery and sharp like a blade.
Nikolai wasn’t in the bed.
Then the doorframe shook.
You sat up just as Nikolai stumbled inside… only he was bigger than you’d ever seen him. Fur blooming across his chest, shoulders monstrous and wide, claws lengthened, fangs catching the moonlight as he panted through them. His eyes were molten gold, blown wide with instinct.
He was halfway between man and beast, and barely holding onto the man.
When he saw you, a sound ripped from him, hungry, desperate, feral.
“Milaya…” His voice was distorted, deep enough to rattle your bones. “Tonight… instincts too strong.”
You swallowed hard. “Nikolai…?”
He took a step forward, trembling.
He was giving you the last chance to turn him away.
But your body was already reacting, heat curling low, breath quickening, that irresistible pull you’d felt since the moment he carried you into this cabin now sharp as hunger.
His restraint snapped like a trap when you didn't move.
In two strides he was on you, towering and immense, scooping you up like you weighed nothing and laying you back onto the furs. His claws bracketed your head, careful even in his frenzy, but everything else was overwhelming, his size, his heat, the way he loomed over you like a living mountain of muscle and fur.
He inhaled sharply, nose dragging along your throat.
“Sweet,” he snarled. “All mine.”
His mouth was on you before you could answer, hot, claiming kisses; fangs grazing but never breaking skin. His hands roamed everywhere, claws tracing your stomach, your thighs, your hips as if mapping what belonged to him.
The growl he let out when he touched between your legs was animal.
“Ready already?” His breath was fire against your skin. “I’ve waited weeks… but the beast has waited longer.”
He flipped you onto your stomach with shocking ease, hauling your hips up, his huge hand flattening between your shoulders to keep you steady. His chest pressed to your back, fur brushing your skin as he lined himself up, thick, heavy, monstrous.
Your breath hitched. “Nikolai—”
“I have you,” he rasped, voice breaking around the edges. “I will claim you.”
The first push stole your breath.
He stretched you open slowly, agonizingly slowly for him, you could tell by the guttural snarls tearing from his throat, until your body yielded around him, heat and pressure overwhelming.
When he bottomed out, his entire body shuddered.
“Good,” he groaned, head dropping to your shoulder. “Perfect. You take me perfectly…” His hips drew back and slammed forward, and the world fractured.
You moaned into the furs as he set a rhythm, powerful, primal, his hand gripping your waist to keep you from being pushed forward with each thrust. His breath was hot on your neck, his growls vibrating down your spine.
“Mine,” he kept whispering, chanting, worshipping. “Mine… milaya… mine…”
His claws dug into the furs beside you, refusing to risk your skin as his pace grew rougher, deeper, overwhelming. Every thrust pushed you higher, tighter, your nerves sparking like wildfire.
When you cried out, his hips stuttered, instinct answering instinct.
“Let go,” he growled, voice shredded. “Let me feel you.”
And when you did, when your body clenched around him, heat bursting through you. Nikolai roared as he buried himself to the hilt, his whole body going rigid as the beast claimed you fully, possessively, completely. His teeth sank into your shoulder, not breaking skin, just marking, while he pumped through the peak, growling your name like a prayer and a promise both.
When he finally collapsed over you, chest heaving, arms caging you in, he lowered his mouth to your ear.
“Next full moon,” he panted, kissing your cheek with surprising tenderness, “I take you again… but slower. As your mate.”
Your heart hammered. “Mate?”
His smile brushed your skin, warm despite the fangs.
“Too late to run now, little one.”
Part One
