HAVEN POV I awoke wrapped in a cocoon of soothing warmth, surrounded by the scent of Wesley’s cologne — stronger and sweeter than I’d smelt it before. I nestled further into the warmth, pressing my back into Wesley’s solid chest, pulling his arm tighter around my body. The safety and security I felt from being that close to him settled my heart indescribably. His skin against mine set little fireworks off everywhere we touched. Those tiny sparks spread pleasure and warmth throughout not just my body, but my entire being. My soul. It was strange. His touch had always felt different to me, but after the previous night, that sensation was even more pronounced. I tensed and my eyes popped open as everything from the night before came crashing into me all at once. The club. Lennox attacking me. My panic attack when I woke up in an unfamiliar hospital. And Wesley. Wesley coming to my side when I was hurt, Wesley staying by my side and comforting me while the doctor and nurses stitched m

HAVEN POV I kept my quick pace as I walked off Wesley’s porch and down the path bordered by his lawn. Nolan’s heavier footsteps sounded behind me as he followed me. I reached the curb and then looked to the left and then the right, deciding which way to go. Nolan stopped next to me, his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants, as he waited for me to make a choice. My plan was going great until I realized I did not know where anything was in Crescent Lake. I crossed my arms and wrinkled my nose in frustration, and he said, “Where exactly did you want to go, Luna?” “I need a shower,” I muttered, remembering my bloody hair and the sweat and general grossness from the club the night before. “A really long, boiling hot shower,” I continued. “I thought you wanted to walk?” he asked with a chuckle. “I just needed some excuse to get out of his house,” I admitted. He laughed again and nodded, then ushered me towards the left. “Come on, Luna. I’ll take you to the packhouse. Just be careful

HAVEN POV Wesley’s arms tightened around me as we stood in the makeshift dance studio he had put together for me. It was far from perfect, but that somehow made it even more special. Because he had put the time and the effort into creating it just for me. He brought his head out of the crook of my neck, his nose trailing along my jawline as he pulled back to look me in the eye again. His eyes were puffy and red-rimmed, his face open and vulnerable, revealing the depth of his emotions to me. He kissed my forehead, then looked at me and said in a hoarse voice, “I, Wesley Stone, accept you, Haven Kenway, as my mate.” His words echoed into my soul, settling over me like a blanket. And beneath that, beneath the surface of my skin, was the overwhelming feeling of acceptance. Of belonging. The feeling I had been craving, been searching for most of my life. I gasped at the intensity of it, my hands clutching at Wesley’s back, pulling my body closer to his. “Are you all right?” he asked,

WESLEY POV I fell asleep on Saturday night with Haven in my arms and woke up Sunday to an empty bed. As soon as I realized Haven was no longer in our bed, I jumped up and out of it, my eyes already scanning the vacant room. My lycan growled and my heart leapt into my throat and I gripped my hair in my hands as I tried to catch my breath. Had it all been a dream? Her coming back and accepting me, us making love in front of the mirrors; her letting me provide a meal for her for the first time as my mate — had I just imagined it all? I yanked the bathroom door open, looking inside to see if she was in the shower or getting ready, but the lights were off and the room was empty. I darted to the walk-in closet, but again, the lights were off and the room was empty. “Fuck!” I muttered under my breath, sinking down onto the small ottoman in the middle of my closet, putting my head in my hands. The whimpering in my mind from my Lycan did nothing to temper the flare of distress in my body.

HAVEN POV Wesley stomped to the front door, and I picked up my blanket and my backpack and took them back into our bedroom with me. Even though Wesley’s shirt provided more than enough coverage, I still felt awkward talking to his dad while wearing nothing else. Especially since we’d only met one time. I slipped on a pair of the pajama pants Wesley had grabbed for me that belonged to Maddie, then I made my way back into the kitchen. I found Harrison sitting at the counter on a barstool, and Wesley washing dishes at the sink, avoiding his dad’s gaze. Annoyance rolled off of Wesley in waves, filling the room with tension as thick and as sticky as tar. My head swiveled back and forth between the two of them, observing the similarities in their body language and the way they wouldn’t look at each other and the fact that neither wanted to be the first to speak. I had to hold in my laugh, because even though I found it amusing, I knew my laughter would only have a negative effect on the s