Chapter Text
He had been waiting for this since the day he'd seen those obscene markings on her skin at the altar to mark his mate.
It could have been anyone.
Any Vampyre sent as collateral.
Father had even admitted I wasn’t even an option until I suddenly became useful.
A roll of the dice.
The luck of the draw.
Honestly, when you add ten years of experience as Collateral, it doesn’t feel quite so random anymore.
And yet here I am, standing in the middle of Lowe's bedroom wearing nothing but moonlight and a thin silk slip, while the Alpha of the Southwest Pack kneels in front of me with a small earthen pot of dark green stain like he's about to perform open-heart surgery on my dignity.
There were small tealight candles lit across the room, but the moon illuminated the scene.
"You're staring," I point out helpfully.
"I'm concentrating," Lowe mutters, dipping his thumb into the thick paste. The scent was distinctively different from the first time the stylist had placed it upon her at the wedding. The scent was sharp and green, earthy like his territory's pine, damp soil, and something unmistakably him. My pitiful Vampyre nose could at least pick that much out.
"This is important," he said again, stalling, and it was a bit amusing.
"Important enough that you cleared out half the furniture and lit a fire like we're about to summon something?"
He glances up at me, those green eyes bright with that particular combination of reverence and barely-leased hunger that makes my slower heart do ridiculous things.
"Yes."
I tilt my head, letting my hair slip over one shoulder. "You know, most couples just get matching tattoos. Or, I don't know, promise rings."
"We aren't most couples as a Were and a Vampyre," he says, voice low and rough. "And I'm not most husbands."
"No." I agree, fighting a smile. "You're significantly more dramatic."
Lowe huffs something that might be a laugh if it weren’t halfway to a growl. He takes my left wrist first, his large, warm hand cradling it like it’s made of glass. The cool paste glides over the delicate skin where my pulse beats slow and steady. The dark green stands out violently against my paleness.
"These are your pulse points," he explains to me again, almost reverent. "So any Were who gets within ten feet of you knows exactly who you belong to."
“How romantic,” I deadpanned, though my voice came out a little breathier than intended. “Nothing says ‘I love you’ like property signage.”
His thumb strokes once over the fresh mark, spreading the stain a little wider. “It’s not signage. It’s a declaration.”
"Hmm.. Same difference." I smile at him, almost reaching up to cover my fangs in the process, before realizing that he doesn't mind them at all.
He moves to my right wrist, repeating the process with the same careful intensity. When he’s done, he rises to his full height and steps behind me. I feel the heat of his bare chest before anything else.
“Hold still,” he murmurs, his breath hot against my cool skin.
“As if I have anywhere better to be.”
His fingers brush the base of my throat on both sides, painting twin marks just above my collarbones. Each touch is deliberate, almost worshipful. I suppress a shiver when his breath ghosts over my skin, closer this time.
“You’re enjoying this way too much,” I say. The faint purple dusting my cheeks that Lowe hasn't seen yet betrays how much I'm enjoying this attention.
“I’ve been thinking about doing this since the night I realized you were my mate.” His voice drops lower. “Well, back then, I was trying not to think about it, actually. Failing miserably.”
“Poor Alpha. Must have been torture.”
“You... have no idea.”
He pulls aside my blonde hair and breathes in my scent deeply. When he reaches the spot at the bottom of my nape, a vertebra down the one he once confessed he wanted to bite, he pauses. His fingers tremble slightly against my skin as he paints a small, precise mark right where my spine meets my skull. The cool paste settles there like a secret.
I feel him lean in, lips hovering just above the fresh stain.
“This,” he says, voice thick, “is where I’ll bite you one day. When you’re ready. When you ask me to. Not a polite little nip. I’m going to sink my teeth in right here and hold you while I knot you so deep you forget every name except mine.”
Heat curls low in my belly, slow and treacherous.
I glance over my shoulder at him, keeping my tone light. “Bold of you to assume I’ll ever ask nicely.”
Lowe’s laugh is dark and ragged. “You won’t have to ask nicely. You’ll just have to say yes.”
He sets the pot aside and turns me to face him. His hands frame my jaw, thumbs stroking my cheeks with a gentleness that feels at odds with the feral glow in his eyes.
“You look…” He exhales shakily, drinking in every green mark on my skin. “You look like mine.”
“I’ve been yours for a while now,” I say, softer than I intended. “You’re just slow on the uptake.”
His forehead drops to rest against mine. “I’m trying very hard not to lose control right now.”
“Trying and failing?” I tease, reaching up to trace the line of his jaw. “Because your hands are shaking, Lowe.”
“They’re not shaking,” he lies, voice gravel-rough. “They’re… vibrating with Alpha energy.”
I snort. “That’s the worst excuse I’ve ever heard.”
He growls — actually growls — and walks me backwards until my thighs hit the edge of the wide bench covered in soft furs. When I sit, he drops to his knees between my spread legs like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
One by one, he presses open-mouthed kisses to every mark he painted. Right Wrist. Left Wrist. Throat. And finally, he turns me gently, brushing my hair aside to kiss the green stain at the bottom of my nape. His teeth graze the spot. It's not hard enough to break skin, but firm enough to make my breath hitch.
“Careful,” I murmur, even as I arch into his mouth. “You bite me now, and I might start expecting it every night.”
Lowe’s laugh vibrates against my skin. “Good. That’s the plan.”
He pulls back just enough to look at me, eyes wild with restraint and something much deeper.
“Still think this is too dramatic?” he asks.
I pretend to consider it, tapping my finger against my lip. “It’s growing on me. The green is a little much, though. I look like I lost a fight with a Christmas tree.”
“You look perfect,” he says, completely serious. “You look like you’re finally wearing my colors.”
My chest tightens in that dangerous, warm way it only does around him.
I reach down and cup his face with both hands, the fresh green marks on my wrists stark against his skin.
“Then stop holding back,” I whisper. “I didn’t agree to be your mate so you could treat me like I’m breakable. I want all of it, Lowe. The paint. The teeth. The knot. The ridiculous possessiveness. All of it.”
Something in him finally snaps.
He surges up, lifting me effortlessly and laying me down on the furs. Looming over me, green eyes glowing with feral hunger and devastating tenderness at the same time, he brushes his thumb over the mark at my nape one last time.
“Mine,” he says, the word rough and final and full of wonder.
I smile up at him, slow and sharp, letting my fangs flash in the moonlight.
“Prove it, Alpha.”
And this time, he doesn’t hold back.
Lowe’s mouth crashes down on mine, hot and demanding, like he’s been starving for weeks instead of hours. His kiss is all teeth and tongue and barely-restrained need. I taste the wild edge of him like pine and smoke and something darker that makes my blood sing. One large hand slides under my lower back, arching me up into him as his hips settle heavily between my thighs.
When he finally pulls back, we’re both breathing hard. His forehead rests against mine.
“Misery...” His voice is gravel-rough, strained. “The bite. The real one. The scar I want to leave right here-” His fingers press firmly against the green-stained spot at the bottom of my nape. “I need you to think about it. Really think about it. Once I put my teeth in you there, it’s forever. Everyone who sees it will know exactly what it means. That you let me claim you the way wolves claim their mates. No taking it back. No changing your mind in fifty years when you get tired of my shit.”
I let out a breathless laugh, even as heat pools low in my belly. Only Lowe would try to be responsible right before he ruins me.
“I’ve had three days to think about nothing else,” I murmur, sliding my hands up his bare chest. “You painted me in your color. You’re already halfway to feral. And you’re still trying to give me an out?”
His eyes darken. “I’m trying to be decent.”
“Stop trying.” I tug his short brown hair until he meets my gaze. “I want the scar. I want your teeth buried right there while you knot me so deep I feel you for days. I want to wear your mark so obviously that even the humans will know I belong to the big bad Alpha who can’t keep his hands off his Vampyre wife.”
Lowe makes a low, broken sound halfway between a groan and a growl and drops his head to my neck. His tongue traces the green mark at my throat before he sucks hard enough to bruise.
“Fuck, Misery,” he rasps against my skin. “You can’t say shit like that and expect me to stay gentle.”
“Who asked for gentle?”
He doesn’t answer with words.
Instead, he yanks the silk slip open with one sharp tug, baring me completely to the cool night air and his burning gaze. His mouth is everywhere, instantly sucking at the twin marks on my collarbones, licking a slow trail down between my breasts, biting just hard enough at the soft underside of one before soothing it with his tongue.
When he reaches the green stain on the inside of my wrist, he presses an open-mouthed kiss there, then sinks his teeth in lightly, just enough to make me gasp.
“These stay,” he growls. “Until they fade on their own. I want to see my color on you every single day.”
I arch beneath him, nails digging into his shoulders. “Then stop talking and fuck me like you mean it, Lowe.”
His control fractures.
He shoves my thighs wider apart with his knees and drags the thick head of his cock through my slick folds, teasing my clit until I’m writhing. I’m embarrassingly wet already- the ritual, the marks, his voice, all of it has me aching.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, voice dark with satisfaction. “Dripping for your mate before I’ve even gotten inside you.”
“Cocky bastard,” I manage, but it comes out breathless.
Lowe pushes in slowly, inch by thick inch, stretching me open until my head falls back on a moan. He’s big, always has been, but tonight he feels even larger, like the ritual has heightened every sensation. When he bottoms out, we both groan.
“Fuck,” he hisses through clenched teeth. “So tight. So perfect. Made for me.”
He starts moving with deep, powerful thrusts that rock the bench beneath us. Every stroke drags against that spot inside me that makes stars burst behind my eyelids. The wet sound of skin meeting skin defiled the room, filthy and perfect.
I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. “Ha- Harder.”
Lowe grunts and obeys, hips snapping forward with bruising force. One hand slides under my ass, tilting my hips so he can grind against my clit with every thrust. The friction is delicious as I whimper from the roughness.
Then he leans down, mouth hovering over the green mark at the bottom of my nape.
“When I bite you here,” he pants against my skin, still thrusting deep and steady, “you’re going to come so hard around my knot you’ll see stars. And you’ll wear my scar proudly, won’t you?”
“Yes,” I gasp, nails raking down his back. “God- yes, Lowe. I want it. I want your mark. I want everything.”
That’s all it takes.
He shifts us suddenly, flipping me onto my stomach with terrifying ease. He pulls my hips up and pushes my chest down into the furs, spreading my knees wide. The new angle has him hitting even deeper, and I cry out as pleasure borders on overwhelming.
Lowe covers me with his body, one hand fisting my hair to tilt my head to the side, fully exposing the green mark at my nape. His cock pistons into me relentlessly while his mouth latches onto that exact spot.
He doesn’t bite down- not yet- but the pressure of his teeth against the sensitive skin while he fucks me senseless is enough to make me shake.
“I’m close,” I whimper, clenching around him.
“Not yet,” he growls. “You come when my knot locks inside you.”
His free hand snakes underneath me, fingers finding my swollen clit and rubbing tight, merciless circles. The dual sensation of his thick cock stretching me, his fingers on my clit, and his teeth threatening the bite I so desperately want all of it pushes me right to the edge.
“Lowe- pl-please-”
“Come,” he commands, voice rough and low. “Come for me, mate.”
I shatter with a sharp cry, walls fluttering and squeezing around him as pleasure crashes through me in violent waves. Lowe groans loudly, thrusts growing erratic as my orgasm triggers his own.
The base of his cock begins to swell, the knot inflating fast and thick. He shoves deep one last time and locks inside me, stretching me impossibly wider. The sudden, intense fullness rips another orgasm from me before the first has even faded.
Lowe buries his face in my neck, teeth pressed firmly against the green-stained mark as he comes hard, pulsing deep inside me with every hot spurt. His growl vibrates through my entire body.
We stay locked together, trembling, his heavy weight pressing me into the furs while his knot keeps us tied in the most primitive way possible. His hand strokes soothingly down my side even as his hips give tiny, involuntary thrusts, like he can’t stop claiming me even now.
Lowe’s teeth press harder against the green-stained mark at the bottom of my nape, the sharp points denting my skin in the most delicious threat. For one dizzying second, I think he’s going to do it- sink his teeth in and mark me forever while his knot is still locked deep inside me.
My body clenches around him at the thought.
But then he groans, low and tortured, and forces himself to pull his mouth back just enough.
“Fuck... Misery.” His voice is wrecked, shaking with the effort it takes not to bite down. “I want to. God, I want to so badly. But not like this. Not tonight.”
I whimper in protest, still trembling through the aftershocks of my orgasm. “Why not?”
He presses a reverent kiss directly over the spot instead, then another, his hips giving one last shallow grind as his knot continues to pulse inside me.
“Because when I bite you here,” he rasps, breath hot against my neck, “I want you to have thought about it for more than one heated night. I want you to choose it with clear eyes, not just because I’ve painted you green and fucked you stupid.”
I let out a breathless laugh that turns into a moan when he shifts slightly inside me. “You think too highly of your dick’s persuasive abilities.”
Lowe chuckles darkly, the sound vibrating through his chest and into my back. “I know exactly how persuasive it is. You’re still fluttering around my knot like you never want me to leave.”
“Cocky,” I mutter, even as I deliberately squeeze around him again just to hear him groan.
He nips at my shoulder instead; it's a lighter, teasing bite as he licks over the green marks on my throat.
“When I finally mark you properly,” he promises, voice low and rough with hunger, “it won’t be rushed. I want it to mean everything. I want you to wear my scar knowing exactly what it costs... and choosing it anyway.”
I turn my head as much as I can, meeting his glowing green eyes.
“Then I’ll plan it,” I say softly, but with complete certainty. “I’ll choose the night. I’ll make it perfect. And when the time comes… I want you to bite me hard enough that I feel it for the rest of my very long life.”
Lowe’s breath catches. His arms tighten around me possessively as another small aftershock rolls through both of us.
“You’re really going to make me wait, aren’t you?” he murmurs, pressing his forehead between my shoulder blades.
“Yes.” I smile into the furs, feeling wicked and content. “But I promise the wait will be worth it. Think of it as... foreplay.”
He laughs helplessly, the sound warm and ragged. “You’re evil.”
“You like it.”
“I love it,” he corrects, voice suddenly more serious. He kisses the painted mark at my nape one more time, reverent and full of promise. “I love you.”
We stay locked together like that for a long time- his knot still tying us, his body covering mine, green stains marking my skin like a temporary claim.
And for the first time, I start quietly planning in the back of my mind:
The perfect date would be a blood moon. Just the two of us. His teeth. My willing throat. Forever, carved permanently into my skin.
I can already picture the look on his face when I finally tell him I’m ready.
I can’t wait to see it.
As Lowe finally began to soften inside me and sleep tugged at my limbs, I pressed my face into the warm curve of his neck and whispered the thought that had been quietly taking root all night.
“I know the perfect night.. it's in a.. few..”
He went perfectly still against me as I fell into a deep sleep...