“Fane,” he heard Jacquelyn say his name.

“Hmm,” he answered.

“Why is your leg not broken?” Jacque asked, sounding confused.

“My father healed my major injuries. He can use power that he draws from the Pack to heal his wolves. I only have bruises and cuts now,” he explained.

“Oh, that’s nifty.”

Fane chuckled. “Yes, it is most definitely nifty.”

Fane raised his head and looked into her eyes. She was so beautiful. Jacque stared back and shuddered at the thought of losing him. It almost killed her when she thought he had died, she truly had not wanted to go on.

“I’m so sorry, my love, for doing that to you. I don’t deserve you, your forgiveness, or your love,” Fane told her through their bond.

“Oh, shut up. What you did, yes it was horrible for me, but it was necessary for you in order to win. I would go through it again if I knew you would be alive in the end. You deserve more than I can give. I just hope you’ll take what I can give you – just me,” Jacque told him.

“I love you, Jacquelyn Pierce, my mate, my love, meu inimă (my heart). I want you to be all mine, with no way for anyone to challenge me.”

Fane leaned down and kissed her. Jacque moaned which made him growl. Before things could go much further, Jacque remembered the bonding ceremony and blood rites.

“Hey, wait,” she said, pushing at him.

“You do remember you thought I was dead, right? Now I’m not, and now you can have your way with me because, you know, I’m not dead,” Fane told her and began kissing her neck.

Jacquegiggled and pushed him away again. “No really, wait. When are we supposed to do the bond thingy and the whole blood sucking?”

“Vampires, not werewolves, suck blood, love. It’s tomorrow, which is not right now, and because I am living in the now and not the tomorrow, I want to reconcile with my mate as wolves do,” Fane told her, leaning down again, and once again was stopped by her hand.

“Oh, we’re reconciled, we’re good to go, no problemo,” Jacque rambled on.

“Jacquelyn?”

“Yes, Fane?” Jacque said in her most innocent voice.

“You want me to say it, don’t you?” Fane asked her.

“Yep, out loud, not in my head,” she told him

Fane growled but acquiesced. “I don’t mean reconcile as in taking things seriously. I mean through touch.” He laughed when she squeaked at that.

“I will not touch you anywhere you don’t want to be touched.” And then mischievously he said, “However, just name the location and I will comply.” He pulled out of her reach when she tried to thump him for his last comment. When she simmered down, he leaned over again and kissed her.

Jacque turned her head, exposing her neck. Fane rumbled in his chest. Jacquelyn called it purring, and he smiled. He leaned down and kissed her neck, sniffing her skin, imagining the blood rites ceremony, knowing that his mark would be right there.

Jacque picked up on his thoughts. She added creatively to it and giggled wickedly when she heard Fane whisper in her mind.

“Soon.”