The celebration faded into a warm, glowing memory as the moon climbed higher, casting soft silver across the room prepared just for them. Damon had carried Nyla over the threshold, tradition or not, grinning like a man who had everything he'd ever dreamed of—because he did.
The room was dimly lit with candles that flickered like stars. The air carried the faint scent of pine, musk, and something unmistakably them. Nyla stood barefoot on the soft rug, her gown now replaced by a silk robe the color of wine, clinging to her curves like it was made for this moment.
Damon's eyes roamed over her slowly, reverently. "You're so beautiful it hurts," he murmured, stepping close enough to cup her face in his hands.
Nyla smiled, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. "I've been yours long before this night."
He leaned in, lips brushing hers like a question, and she answered with a kiss that deepened, igniting the tension that had simmered for days. The heat between them built like wildfire, slow and inevitable. Damon's hands explored her body with reverence, learning every inch like sacred ground.
Clothes slipped away in silence, each layer revealing more of the truth between them: desire, devotion, and an unspoken promise of forever.
He lifted her onto the bed, his touch never rushed, his gaze never leaving hers. "Tell me if you want to stop," he whispered.
"I don't," Nyla breathed, pulling him down to her.
Their bodies met in a rhythm both wild and gentle. Moans and soft gasps filled the room as they moved together—his lips worshipping her skin, her fingers tangled in his hair. It wasn't just physical. It was a claiming, a bonding, an unraveling of every wall they'd built.
By the time the moon dipped lower, they lay tangled in each other, bare, breathless, and whole.
"I love you," she whispered, her voice sleepy against his chest.
Damon smiled, pressing a kiss to her temple. "And I'll love you through every lifetime."
The night held them close—Alpha and Luna, mated in soul and body.