Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77952 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77952 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“You don’t know it yet,” I whisper, “but you’re going to change everything.”
The door creaks softly, and I look up.
Angeli, Nixon’s mother, stands in the doorway with a folded blanket in her hands. She hesitates, her sharp eyes moving from Ahya to me, then back again.
“Is she always this quiet?”
“She’s exhausted. The trip, the tension. She feels it, even if she doesn’t understand it.”
Angeli approaches slowly and sits in the chair by the window. The blanket stays on her lap.
“This room...” She sighs, not quite meeting my gaze. “They all shared it once. I used to find Reed sleeping under the bed because Matt kicked too much in his sleep.”
I smile a little.
“I’m sorry you never got to know him,” she says, voice tightening. “He was a force. Bold. Loud. Too brave for his own good.”
I rock Ahya gently, watching Angeli’s hands clench the blanket. It’s never been my way to poke at sore places or to confront situations that aren’t mine, but my mates have suffered enough because of this bad blood, and if I can do something about it, I will.
“You still blame them,” I say softly.
She meets my gaze this time. “Wouldn’t you?”
“No. Matt was the eldest. He made a choice to run ahead… his brothers couldn’t have stopped him.”
“There were three of them… they could have—”
“I know the men you raised. I know Nixon. And he carries the guilt of your blame like a chain around his throat. I know Reed, who laughs even though he carries his brother’s absence like a scar. And I know Finn, who hides it best but dreams like he’s still watching his brother bleed out in his head.”
Angeli’s jaw works. She looks away.
“They didn’t kill Matt,” I say. “But they live like they did because you made them wear the guilt.”
“You don’t know what it’s like to lose a child.”
“You’re right,” I say. “But I know what it’s like to live with fear my mother laid on my shoulders. The burden is heavy.”
Angeli swallows hard, looking at the child in my arms.
“You can grieve, Matt,” I say. “You should. He was your child. But if you bury your heart with him, you’re letting the sons still alive die by inches. And I won’t let that happen to my mates. If you cannot leave the past in the past, this will be the last time you see any of us.”
“You love them,” she whispers.
“I’d burn for them.”
She slowly stands and lays the blanket at the foot of the bed. “She’ll need warmth tonight,” she says quietly. “You both will.”
Then she’s gone.
I exhale, everything inside me still buzzing from the conversation. But I don’t have time to sit with it because I sense their approach before they even open the door.
Their scent hits first—earth, sweat, musk. They’ve been running. The shift always leaves their bodies hot and slick and charged like they’re still wolves under their human skin.
The door swings open, and there they are, all shirtless, damp with sweat, eyes glowing in the low light. There’s a feral edge to their energy that makes me woozy.
“You’re awake,” Nixon says, voice thick.
“I’ve been waiting.”
Ahya stirs as Reed moves to take her gently from my arms, murmuring softly as he tucks her into the basket in the corner. She sighs and curls deeper into the blankets.
I stand, moistening my lips, hungry for my mates.
“You’re all sweaty,” I murmur.
“We can shower,” Finn grins, teeth sharp, eyes on my mouth.
“Mmmm.” I step toward them and lick a bead of sweat from Nixon’s neck. “Salty.”
The scent of them—hot, sweaty and masculine—drives me insane. All I can think about is clawing at them, licking them, biting them, tasting them, taking their bodies deep inside mine in whatever way I can.
Nixon’s hands snap to my waist as I press my body to his. His fingers are fast, unbuttoning my shirt and pushing it to the floor. My skirt follows, and three sets of eyes devour every inch of me.
Mine, three voices rumble in my head.
“Yes,” I say out loud. “I’m yours and you’re mine.”
Then they’re on me.
Nixon is behind me, kissing the back of my neck. Reed’s mouth is on my breasts, his hands everywhere as I run my fingers through his damp hair. Finn kneels, pressing his mouth between my thighs, tongue ruthless, fingers pressed deep into the flesh of my hips.
I arch, cry out, twist, and pant, as their hungry whispers take over my mind.
Look at her. So ripe. So needy. So pretty. Her pussy is sweet on my tongue. Her body jerks when you do that. Touch her there. Fill her.
It’s a bond so deep it blurs the line between our bodies and minds.
I’ve never been so full.
So wrecked.
So alive.
And in the afterglow, pressed between them, still trembling, I whisper, “Whatever’s coming... we face it together.”