The pack eventually dispersed, uneasy but quiet.
Kael found Aradia by the river after, the moonlight spilling over her pale skin, her cloak whipping in the wind. She stood barefoot in the snow, her fire flickering faintly at her palms.
"You shouldn't have spoken for me," he said softly, though his voice held no anger.
She turned, her eyes wet. "They'll never accept me."
His massive frame closed the distance in two strides, his hand cupping her cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear. "I do not care if they worship you or curse you. You are mine. That is enough."
Her breath hitched, her fire flaring against his chest. "Kael…"
His lips crushed hers, fierce and unyielding, his arms wrapping around her with desperate hunger. He lifted her easily, her legs wrapping around his waist as his heat pressed against her, the cold night forgotten.
"Say it," he growled against her mouth. "Say you are mine."
She trembled, her fire licking along her skin, her heart roaring louder than any flame. "I am yours. Always."
He carried her back to the den, their passion igniting again, hotter, deeper, until every shadow seemed to vanish before their fire.
That night was not just desire. It was a vow, sealed in skin and soul, that no force—not wolves, not shadow, not death—would sever.