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“Yes,” she agreed, spreading her legs wider. “Yours.”

I positioned myself at her entrance, the blunt head of my cock pressing against her wetness. With one slow thrust, I slid inside.

She was tight, wet, utterly mine, her body made to take me, to hold me, to claim me as hers. The sensation nearly undid me—the perfect heat of her, the way she gripped me from within.

Her nails raked down my back, dragging through my fur to reach the skin beneath. The slight pain only intensified my pleasure, making me thrust deeper.

I growled, my hips snapping forward, burying myself fully inside her, and she shattered around me. Her walls clenched tight, pulsing around my length as she came again, crying out my name like a prayer.

I set a relentless pace, claiming her over and over, my claws digging into the stone on either side of her head. The slap of flesh against flesh, the wet sounds of our joining, the mingled scent of our arousal—it was perfect. Primal. Everything.

My name on her lips?—

My mate beneath me?—

The universe aligning in one perfect moment?—

I roared as my release built, my thrusts becoming erratic, more forceful. She took everything I gave her, urging me on with whispered pleas and broken moans. When I finally came, it was with a shattering force that tore through me, emptying me into her welcoming body in hot spurts.

I woke with a snarl, my body rock-hard, drenched in sweat and my own release.

For a long moment, I panted, my chest heaving, my heart slamming against my ribs. The reality of my situation returned slowly—the alien jungle, the crash, the isolation.

But the dream remained vivid, seared into my memory with perfect clarity.

The dream had been real.

Not a fantasy. Not an illusion.

Rodinians only shared dreams with their fate-mates—a truth written in our blood, in our bones, in our very souls. It was ourmost sacred connection, the way our ancestors had found their perfect matches across vast distances.

She was here.

Beyond all logic, beyond all reason.

There should have been no humans for light years in any direction. The odds of finding a fate-mate on a random planet after a crash was astronomically small.

And yet?—

My mate was on this planet.

Waiting for me.

I bared my fangs, a slow, satisfied growl rumbling deep in my chest. My purpose was clear now, my path forward certain in a way it hadn’t been moments before.

I would find her.

And nothing—nothing—would take her from me.

I checked my gear, assessing what had survived the crash. My combat knife was still secured to my thigh. The emergency beacon on my wrist was functional, though who knew when the Legion might receive it. My armor had protected me from the worst of the impact.

It would have to be enough.

The light was fading as night approached, but I wouldn’t wait for morning. Every moment separated from my mate felt like agony now that I knew she existed. I dropped from the tree, landing in a silent crouch, my senses alert.

I raised my head, testing the air for her scent. Nothing yet, but the dream had given me purpose. The lagoon, the specific flora—these would be my guides.

I moved through the alien jungle with renewed strength, my fatigue forgotten, my injuries ignored.

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