When we are one

Chapter 15 Anika

I wake in a cold sweat, my heart pounding in my chest.

This isn’t my room.

It takes me a second to realize I’m back in Corbin’s. His scent wraps around me—cedar and something darkly addictive—and his arm is draped possessively across my waist. His breathing is slow and even, comforting in a way that makes me want to melt into him. But the pull to shower, to wash off everything still clinging to me from yesterday, is stronger.

Carefully, I lift his arm from my body, savoring the heat of his skin for just a moment before slipping away. I take the sheet with me, wrapping it tightly around my aching form.

The bathroom is dim, filtered sunlight slanting through the shutters. It’s quiet. Safe. I turn the water on and step under the warm spray, letting it wash over me. My muscles loosen as the droplets kiss my skin, and I close my eyes, exhaling slowly.

When I open them, he’s there.

Corbin stands just inches away, his eyes burning with an intensity that steals my breath. He says nothing. He doesn’t need to.

In one fluid motion, he turns me and presses me against the shower wall. The cool glass against my front makes me gasp, but his body is a furnace behind me. The tension in the air ignites into something primal.

His hand winds into my hair, tugging gently but firmly, tilting my head to expose my neck. His lips find the tender spot just below my ear, and I shudder. Every kiss, every touch from him sets my skin ablaze.

His hand trails down my spine, lingering at my waist before sliding between my thighs. He finds my arousal instantly, and I moan—helpless and wanting.

His chest vibrates with a low growl of approval, and I can feel his smile as his forehead rests against the back of my head. One of his hands slips into mine, fingers interlacing, grounding me as the other continues its slow, torturous rhythm inside me.

My body arches instinctively, silently begging. And he answers.

He slides into me with a deep, deliberate thrust—filling me where his fingers had been moments before. I cry out, back arching against him, utterly consumed.

His hands find my breasts, kneading them firmly, his fingers teasing my n*****s until I’m trembling in his arms.

We move in sync, a perfect rhythm, as if our bodies have done this for lifetimes. Every sound, every breath, every heartbeat is shared. There’s no space between us—only fire and need and something so much deeper.

Something I’m terrified to name

His body moves with mine, slow and consuming, each thrust anchoring me more firmly in the present… in him. I can’t think, can’t breathe, can only feel—every inch of him, every sound he makes against my skin, every whispered growl that reverberates through my bones.

“He is ours,” Silvara whispers inside me, her voice thick with desire and reverence. “We were made for him. For this.”

I bite my lip to keep from crying out too loudly, the heat curling low in my belly as his pace quickens. My hands brace against the glass, fingers slipping with the steam and water, but Corbin—he holds me steady, worships me with every movement of his body.

His name falls from my lips in a breathless moan, and I feel his entire body shudder in response.

Inside him, Ezra howls.

“Mine,” he snarls, rising to the surface. “Touch her like this forever. Mark her. Make her feel us—need us.”

Corbin’s grip tightens, and I know Ezra is bleeding through, pushing him closer to the edge, urging him to claim what is theirs. The line between them blurs. His thrusts grow more desperate, more intense, like he’s trying to anchor himself to me—to keep me from slipping away again.

And maybe I need that too.

“Anika,” Corbin breathes my name like it’s the only word he remembers. His voice is thick, laced with need and something rawer. Something real.

“Let him in,” Silvara urges, her voice shaking with emotion. “Let them both in. They won’t break us. They’ll make us whole.”

Tears prick the corners of my eyes, though I don’t fully understand why. Maybe it's because this feels like more than just heat and chemistry. It feels like healing. Like belonging. Like home.

His hand slips from mine and finds my chin instead, turning my face just enough for him to capture my lips. The kiss is messy, wet from the spray, but gods—it’s everything. Tender and savage all at once.

“Say you’re mine,” he growls into my mouth, not a command, but a plea.

For a moment, the world stills. All I hear is the water hitting the floor. All I feel is him.

I look back at him, eyes locked, and whisper, “I already am.”

Ezra roars with triumph.

Silvara hums with a soft, satisfied purr. “Fated.”

Corbin moves inside me again, slower now, reverent—as though that one confession has changed everything.

And maybe it has.

The water cools around us, but neither of us moves.

Corbin holds me close, one hand splayed protectively over the mark on my neck—the one he gave me. His touch there is possessive, reverent. Like even now, he needs to feel that it’s real. That I’m real.

It should feel like a chain. Instead, it feels like a promise.

His thumb brushes over the mark, and I feel the bond between us pulse—alive and warm. A soft thrum of energy that links our hearts even when no words are spoken.

“You okay?” he murmurs, lips brushing my damp skin.

I nod slowly. “Yeah… I just needed a second to breathe.”

He exhales, resting his forehead against the back of my neck. “You don’t have to hide from me, Anika. Not anymore.”

A lump rises in my throat. The mark should’ve erased the distance between us. But it hasn’t—not completely. There are still shadows in me he hasn’t seen, places I don’t know how to share.

“He’s trying,” Silvara says softly, her voice like moonlight in my mind. “Let him in. We’ve already chosen him. Body and soul.”

I lean into his chest, letting his presence steady me. “Do you… feel it too?” I ask quietly. “The bond. I mean—not just the pull, but the emotions?”

Corbin tightens his hold, his hand drifting over my side.

“Every second,” he says. “It’s like you’re in my blood. Even when I’m not touching you, you’re there.”

His honesty shatters something inside me. And in its place, something softer blooms.

Peace. Safety.

“We are no longer alone,” Silvara whispers.