Luca's POV
The storm hits at midnight—thunder shaking the mansion, lightning splitting the sky.
I wake gasping, heart racing. Storms terrify me—have since childhood.
"Luca." Rian's awake immediately, pulling me close. "It's okay. Just weather."
"I know. Can't help it." I bury my face in his chest, trembling.
His arms tighten protectively. "I've got you. You're safe."
Thunder crashes again. I flinch.
"Look at me," he commands gently. I do. "Focus on me. Only me."
His eyes are golden in the darkness. I focus on them, on his face, his warmth.
"That's it. Just us. Nothing else matters." He kisses my forehead. "I won't let anything hurt you."
"It's stupid. Being scared of storms."
"It's not stupid. It's real." He strokes my hair. "Want me to distract you?"
"How?"
His smile is soft. "Let me love you. Make you forget everything but us."
He kisses me slowly, thoroughly, until the storm fades into background noise. His hands are gentle, reverent, worshipping.
"You're everything," he murmurs against my skin. "My whole world."
"Show me," I breathe.
He does. Slow and tender and overwhelming. Each touch, each kiss, each whispered word of love drowning out the thunder.
When we finally join, it's gentle—him above me, eyes locked, souls connected.
"I love you," he breathes. "So fucking much."
"Love you too." I pull him closer. "Don't let go."
"Never."
Hours later, the storm has passed. We lie tangled together, satisfied and peaceful.
"Thank you," I whisper. "For distracting me."
"Thank you for letting me take care of you." He kisses my shoulder. "That's what mates do. Support each other."
"You always support me."
"You support me too. More than you know." He pulls me closer. "We're good together, Luca. Really good."
"The best."
Morning comes softly. Sunlight through rain-washed windows, birds singing.
Rian's still holding me, even in sleep. Protective. Possessive. Perfect.
I trace his face gently, and his eyes flutter open.
"Morning," he mumbles.
"Morning." I kiss him softly. "Storm's over."
"We survived."
"Together."
"Always together." He rolls on top of me, smiling. "Ready to start the day?"
"Five more minutes like this?"
"Greedy."
"You love it."
"I love you." He kisses me deeply. "Everything about you."
We spend the morning in bed—talking, touching, loving. No rush, no duties, just us.
"This is perfect," I sigh contentedly.
"You're perfect." He nuzzles my neck. "My perfect mate."
"Sappy Alpha."
"Your sappy Alpha."
"Yeah." I smile. "Mine."
Later, finally dressed and functioning, he makes breakfast while I paint.
Domestic. Comfortable. Happy.
"I could do this forever," I call to the kitchen.
"Good. Because forever is exactly what you're getting." He appears with coffee, kissing the top of my head. "Stuck with me for life, baby."
"Best imprisonment ever."
He laughs. "From kidnapping to commitment. We've come far."
"The best journey."
"Agreed."