Mated to the Devil Alpha

Logan POV.

Moonlight poured through the tall windows, painting silver stripes across the bed. Rune lay on her stomach beside me, naked, her breathing slow and deep. Her long silver-white hair spilled over my pillow.

I could touch her.

The thought hit me like a fist to the chest every single time. My hands, hands that had killed everything they brushed for ten long years, were allowed to rest on her skin and not watch it blacken and die.

I reached out, slow, careful, like she might vanish if I moved too fast.

My fingertips grazed the line of her spine. Those faint silvery birthmarks glowed under my touch, little constellations pulsing brighter the longer I traced them.

She didn’t wither. She didn’t scream.

The bond between us thrummed, thick and golden, tugging at my ribs. Three weeks since it snapped into place. Three weeks since my curse stopped mattering.

My palm slid lower, over the dip of her waist, the soft curve of her hip. My own chest burned where the black curse mark twisted across my skin, reminding me exactly what kind of monster I was.

But right then, looking at her, I almost believed I wasn’t.

“Logan.”

Her voice was husky with sleep, low enough to scrape down my spine. My hand froze on her hip.

“I know you’re awake,” I said, leaning in until my lips brushed the shell of her ear. “Your breathing changed five minutes ago.”

She rolled onto her back, the sheet sliding down, and looked up at me.

Those eyes, usually storm-gray, had gone full molten silver.

“I could feel you staring,” she murmured.

“I like staring.” My voice came out rough. “I like knowing you’re real. That you’re mine.”

“Possessive.” A smile curled her lips, but her pupils were blown wide.

“Always.” I braced one arm beside her head, caging her in.

“You knew that the second you said yes to this bond.”

Her fingers came up, tracing my jaw, nails scraping just enough to make me shiver. “Did I know you’d be this gentle?”

The word almost made me laugh. Gentle. Me.

“Only with you,” I said, and meant it down to the marrow.

She tugged me down. I went, covering her body with mine, our skin sliding hot against each other. Her thighs parted, cradling me right where I was already hard and aching for her.

I didn’t move.

“Rune.” My voice cracked. “If we finish this, if I mark you, there’s no undoing it. You’ll carry my bite forever.”

“I know.” Her hands swept up my back, nails dragging. “I want it. I want you.”

“Even knowing what I am?”

She silenced me the only way that ever worked, she arched up and kissed me.

It was hunger and moonlight and every desperate thing we’d held back. I groaned into her mouth,my control snapping like dry wood. My hands found her wrists, pinning them above her head as I took the kiss deeper, tongue stroking hers until she whimpered.

“Please,” she breathed against my lips. “Logan, please.”

I pulled back just enough to see her, her lips swollen, eyes pure glowing silver.

“Tell me you want this,” I growled. “Tell me you choose me.”

“I choose you.” she said without hesitation. “I choose us.”

Something inside me broke open.

I nudged her thighs wider, lined myself up, the head of my cock brushing her slick heat. She was drenched already, and the feel of it made my hips jerk.

“Last chance, little wolf.”

“Never.” Her legs locked around my waist, heels digging into my ass. “Claim me.”

I pushed in slowly, watching every expression across her face. She was tight, so fucking tight, heat gripping me as I sank deeper. Her eyes fluttered, then snapped open when I ordered, “Look at me.”

She did, silver meeting my ice-blue, and gasped my name like a prayer.

I pulled back, thrust in again, deeper this time. “Say it again.”

“Logan—” It came out a moan. “Please, I need—”

“I know exactly what you need.” I set a rhythm, slow, deliberate strokes that dragged over every sensitive spot inside her. The bond fed me her pleasure, sharp and bright, doubling my own.

Her fingers tangled in my hair, yanking me down. She bit my lower lip very hard, drawing blood that she licked away with a wicked smile.

“Harder,” she demanded.

I gave it to her. Hips snapping, bed creaking, her cries rising with every thrust. I dropped my mouth to her throat, sucking at the spot where her pulse hammered.

The bond sang, burning brighter.

“I’m close,” she gasped, her inner walls fluttering around me. “Logan—”

“Not yet.” I slowed, teasing her, until she whined. “We come together. When I mark you.”

Her eyes flashed. “Then do it.”

I drove into her harder, faster, our skin slapping. She met every thrust, legs locked tight, nails raking my back.

“Where?” I managed.

She tilted her head, baring the long line of her throat. “Here. Where everyone will see.”

My mouth watered. “It’ll hurt. Then it’ll feel like fire and heaven at once.”

“I trust you.”

I slammed home one last time and struck.

My teeth sank deep. Her blood flooded my tongue, sweet and wild. She screamed, back bowing off the bed, but it wasn’t pain. Pleasure ripped through the bond, hers crashing into mine until I couldn’t tell where I ended and she began.

Silver light exploded from her skin. I felt her climax hit like a tidal wave, every pulse, every clench, every spark of ecstasy as if it were my own body shattering.

And she felt mine.

We came together, locked tight, my cock pulsing deep inside her as I poured everything into her. Her walls milked me relentlessly, dragging it out until we were both shaking, breathless, and wrecked.

The light faded slowly.

I licked the wound closed, watching my mark form: a glowing crescent moon ringed by dark thorns, stark and beautiful against her pale skin.

“Mine,” I whispered.

She trembled, hands cupping my face, tears glittering in her silver eyes. “And you’re mine. Don’t forget.”

I pulled out slow, both of us hissing at the loss. Then I rolled us, tucking her against my chest. She curled into me like she belonged there, because she did.

Her fingertips traced the black curse mark over my heart. “Still hurt?”

“Not when you touch it.”

We lay tangled, breathing syncing, the bond humming soft and satisfied.

Peace. Real peace.

Until boots echoed in the hall, fast and purposeful.

Rune tensed. “Freya?”

I was already moving, reaching for my pants. “Yeah.”

A knock, soft but urgent.

“My Alpha,” Freya called through the door. “I’m sorry, but we have a problem.”

Rune sat up, sheet falling to her waist, my fresh mark gleaming on her throat. She looked like a goddess and a storm wrapped in one.

“Go,” she said quietly. “Duty calls.”

“I don’t want to.” The words scraped out raw. “I want to stay inside you for the rest of the night.”