“I felt you wake up,” he said with his back to me. He turned around, holding a hand to his chest. “I felt it here.”

He was wearing the chinos and chambray shirt from the night before. The shirt was crumpled. Creased at the collar. He had no business looking as good as he did. The air around him was light. His eyes were clear. I could tell at a glance his heat was broken. He was Jules again. Just Jules. I was overcome with relief at the sight of him. My eyes started to tear up before I could stop them.

“Oh, God.” His face filled with fear. “Oh, God. Do you regret it?”

“No,” I said quickly. “Not even a little.” I blinked like crazy, but a hot tear streaked down my face.

“Then why are you crying?”

“’Cause I missed you so much.”

“Wha . . . but, Sully, I was here the whole time.” He took several steps toward me, stopping when he was so close, I could have reached out and touched him. The heavy thing in my chest grew lighter, then hotter and hotter until it ignited. “Can you feel that?”

I nodded.

“I think it’s our bond. I think it likes us being close.”

I took a step toward him. Light flowed in an arc between us. “I think you’re right,” I whispered. I reached for him, suddenly nervous. I’d gotten used to Jules-in-heat. I wasn’t sure how this Jules would react to me. He stepped into my embrace. He wound his arms around my neck and pressed his body solidly against mine. I pulled him toward me as hard and tight as I could. We didn’t move for a long time.

“Can I see it?” I asked when we parted.

He looked up at me and nodded shyly. He undid a couple of the buttons of his shirt and tugged at his collar, baring the base of his neck. My mark was inflamed. Red and raised. Two crescent moons made of scar tissue that faced one another. It was beautiful. It shouldn’t have been, but it was.

“Does it hurt?”

He shook his head.

“Can I touch it?”

“Yeah, of course. It’s yours.”

Mine.

My mark.

My man.

My mate.

I traced the outline of the mark gently, but even so, he flinched when I did it. I was confused. He’d said it didn’t hurt. I searched his face and found the answer in his eyes. They were clear seconds ago but had suddenly grown darker. I touched the mark again, still feather light. He expelled a quivery breath.