Because Ethan’s mark was gone.
The constant reminder of betrayal and broken promises and a bond that had meant nothing to the person who’d placed it, that was gone, burned away by something stronger.
And this new mark, this claiming from a stranger whose name she barely knew, it felt…
different.
Solid.
Unbreakable.
Like an anchor rather than a chain.
“You were already marked,” he continued, his voice low and steady.
“By someone who clearly didn’t deserve to keep that claim, who let you get to a state where you were throwing yourself in front of cars and seeking oblivion with strangers.
So I removed it.” “You can’t just…” Dakota startled, then stopped, because clearly he could, clearly he had, and the evidence was right there on her neck where she could feel his mark burning with fresh intensity while the old one faded into nothing.
“I can,” Kade corrected quietly.
“And I did.
You’re mine now, Dakota.
The bond knows it, your wolf knows it, and soon enough, you’ll know it too.” Dakota stared at him, her mind struggling to process the magnitude of what had just happened, the way her entire existence had just shifted on its axis without her permission or consent.
She should be furious, should be outraged at the audacity of him marking her without asking, without explaining, without giving her any choice in the matter.
But underneath the shock and confusion, she could feel her wolf settling in ways it hadn’t settled in years, a rightness she didn’t want to acknowledge, couldn’t afford to examine too closely.
The mark on her neck burned with intensity that was no longer just pain, transforming into something else entirely, something that sent liquid heat coursing through her veins and igniting nerve endings she’d thought were dead.
The claiming bite had triggered something fundamental, something primal that her broken mind couldn’t control or suppress.
Her wolf was surging forward with desperate hunger, awakening instincts that demanded completion, that demanded she claim in return what had just branded her as owned.
“I have every right to claim it now!” Dakota’s voice emerged rough and possessive, all traces of her earlier devastation temporarily buried under the overwhelming need flooding through her system.
Her hands found the sides of his shirt, gripping the expensive fabric with desperate strength before tearing it open with violence that sent buttons scattering across the car’s interior like shrapnel.
The sound of fabric ripping fed something feral in her, each destroyed piece of clothing removing barriers she couldn’t tolerate anymore.
Underneath the ruined shirt was a vest that concealed the full definition of his physique, but she could feel the hard muscle beneath, could sense the coiled power contained in his frame.
Her hands ran across his chest with possessive hunger, mapping every line and contour, claiming with touch what the bond had already made hers.
“You are a girl,” Kade said, his voice carrying low amusement that rumbled through his chest beneath her exploring hands.
“Be gentle…” The suggestion was almost teasing, wrapped in dark humor that suggested he knew exactly how unlikely gentleness was in this moment but felt compelled to say it anyway.
“I’m not Maya!” The words burst from Dakota’s lips before her conscious mind could catch them, before she could filter the comparison that revealed far more than she intended.
It was a truth she’d never fully articulated before, the fundamental difference between her and her sister that went beyond simple personality.
Maya was soft and gentle, the kind of woman men called wife material with that particular reverent tone.
Maya followed rules, met expectations, never pushed against boundaries, or demanded too much.
Dakota, on the other side, had never been any of those things.
She was wild where Maya was controlled, fierce where her sister was gentle, demanding where Maya was accommodating.
And right now, she was claiming what she wanted with a ferocity Maya would never understand or possess.
“Who is Maya?” Kade asked, his voice carrying casual curiosity despite the tension coiling through his body, despite the way his hands had tightened on her waist.
“Irrelevant,” Dakota muttered dismissively, her lips finding his and pressing against them with desperate intensity that demanded his full attention return to the present moment rather than dwelling on questions that didn’t matter.
The kiss was fierce and consuming, her mouth moving against his with possessive certainty.
The claiming bite had done something to her chemistry, had triggered responses that went beyond normal attraction.
Her blood burned hot, her skin hypersensitive, every nerve ending alive with desperate need.
Pheromones flooded from her system in waves so intense any wolf within range would scent her arousal, her feral desperation, her overwhelming need for completion.
She was sweet and intoxicating, her scent designed by nature to call to her mate with irresistible intensity.