"Slower, of course we will," Valko whispered, chuckling softly as he nuzzled into Ylva's dark hair. Her locks smelled of sweat, earth, and honey. She smelled of sweet grass and nectar, the refreshing scent that wafted from the river after a good, heavy rain, and he wondered how a wolf from snowy mountains could carry the scent of the water so wholly within herself. It was as though she were created just for him, and for the hundredth time he assumed she was, but even if that was just a fantasy created by the instinct-driven beast inside of him, it didn't matter now. She was his, he was hers, and nothing other than that single fact mattered at that moment.<br/><br/>Tucking her close, Valko carefully flipped onto his back as he had done the night before, cradling Ylva to his chest while his knot kept them entangled. "If one of the elders had told me last night I would be mated today by midday, I would have thought all their good sense lost to age," he mumbled gently, affectionately stroking her cheek as he spoke. "I hope you know, I do not enter this relationship recklessly. We are a partnership now, and I am ready to face whatever trials await us."<br/><br/>He smiled, eyes lingering at the bright gems of light in her pupils before traveling down to the open wound in her neck. "I hope I did not hurt you too badly," he whispered, brushing the edge of his thumb over the torn flesh. His own throat wept blood, trickling in scarlet rivers down his sharp collarbone, but he did not mind. The pain was nothing more than a gentle, pleasurable sting, as if his body knew the significance of this mark.<br/><br/>Hazy bliss was quickly beginning to give way to an uneasy silence as Valko continued to stare at his new lover. Heavy eyebrows furrowed together and the alpha's mouth twisted downward into a familiar frown. "Once my knot has subsided, we'd do well to gather the pack. They will see our fresh markings, they will smell my claim on you and know I have taken you as my mate. Questions are bound to surface." This last part came almost as a grimace, as if the thought of facing a barrage of inquiries about his new beloved rendered him queasy.<br/><br/>"It's going to be uncomfortable, I'd imagine. Are you ready for this?"