Devoted to the Dragon (The Last Shifters #1)

36. Fennik

Chapter 36

Fennik

G unnar picks up Randi in a bridal carry, and I move ahead of them to open doors as we weave through the estate. Watching her go through this with Knox is going to age me a decade I can’t afford. I forced Gunnar and myself to give her time to cool down after leaving the lake, but it hasn’t made any of this easier.

She’s torn up about Knox, and unfortunately, this isn’t something I can fix for her. I’m pretty sure she needed the shit show that was last night. Gunnar and I didn’t go far when we dropped her off, finding a spot at the lake’s edge near them to keep an eye on her. There was no way we were leaving, even with the serpent’s powers subdued.

I had to pin Gunnar to the ground to keep him from going to her when she started to scream. Maybe he was right and I should have intervened. But even though Gunnar is pissed at me and she’s upset, I think last night was a breakthrough. The serpent was good to her, even in her rage, and he’s earned some respect for that. It seems to me she’s got a lot of demons to bury before she can decide if she’ll keep this one.

We’re quiet as we move through the staff areas and the courtyard, nodding to people but not stopping.

My little dove smells like a doused campfire. She’s covered in Knox’s scent and her own sadness. The urge to take her from Gunnar’s arms is overwhelming, but my poor pup nearly lost his mind last night. He hasn’t shifted back, and I don’t think he will until we’re all safe in her lair.

Gunnar whimpers, the sound slicing into my heart.

“What is it, pup?” I turn, looking him over.

He makes the same noise, his snout nuzzling into the slumped form in his arms. Randi is already asleep.

“Too hot,” he says, his voice clipped.

I touch her cheek, wincing at the heat. This isn’t a normal fever. I curse, ushering him up the stairs as I dial Vandera.

“I’m on my way, but I don’t think you need to worry,” she answers. Witches. I swear.

“Thank you,” I say, but she’s already hung up.

I follow Gunnar into her bedroom and instruct him to lie with her while I make some cold compresses.

Vandera joins us minutes later, crawling beside Gunnar to look over our dragon. He’s got her splayed on his chest, cradling a washcloth to her head. He growls even though it’s Vandera. It’s a mate’s warning, and she bows before asking permission to touch Randi. Gunnar gives a sharp nod but tenses as Vandera gets closer, showing his teeth.

He’s like Randi—tenderhearted naturally and made rough by circumstance. Both are protective of the ones they love. I love that they have that connection—not the violence in their pasts, but how they understand each other. That’s the way packs should work. All the mates give each other different parts of themselves, and somehow that makes the different pieces come together. I see so clearly the way Gunnar and Randi fit. My role in our threesome I’m understanding more and more too. What I can’t puzzle out is Knox.

Vandera runs her hand along Randi’s back, eyes closed, as she whispers. It doesn’t take long before she sits back and smiles at me.

My pacing stops. “Well?”

“I can’t be sure, but I believe she’s starting to awaken.”

Vandera’s words make my brain turn to buzzing static for a moment, my fear making my wolf beat against my chest. This is it. One way or another, we will land on a side of the knife. I can only hope we find peace.

But at least the change is coming. That has to be a good sign.

“Okay?” Our worried pup chokes out the question. He hasn’t said more than a few words since last night. His wolf has taken over completely.

Vandera nods, turning to me. “She is. This means the mating magic is working. I’ll make some stuff for her. A few pouches with some notes on how to use them. There isn’t a lot to go on. But if it’s anything like a wolf going into heat, she’ll be crampy and mopey.”

Gunnar whines.

I translate. “She’ll be like this until the full moon?”

“No. Randi will probably sleep more, but she’ll be up,” she reassures us. Vandera climbs off the bed, patting me on the chest as she leaves. “You’ll need a plan for what to do about the Thunder before the heat takes over.”

That’s code for “Come up with a plan for how to deal with Knox.” I blow out a breath, wondering what the hell I can do to make it right.

“Scoot over, pup.” The best I’ve got right now is to let my wolf take my skin. He’s desperate and has been since we left her in the wards with the serpent. It’s taken all my control not to let him loose.

I shift and hop up in bed. My poor wolf is shaking, whining as he nudges his nose under her arm and curls up beside her to keep watch.

The first twenty-four hours, she doesn’t wake. Her fever spikes in the middle of the night, racking her body with chills. She makes these little whimpers that flay me. We purr and hold her through it, but I feel helpless as I watch her struggle. Gunnar isn’t faring any better, getting increasingly agitated the longer she sleeps.

By midmorning the next day, she awakens long enough to tell us about destroying the nest. She cries, and I can see how she’s fighting forgiveness, how she fears loving Knox. It’s the same thing she always struggles with—how to trust and open herself to love. My heart breaks for the two of them and the mess it has landed us all in.

It’s late afternoon when she wakes again. She’s got cramps and is feverish, but she’s settled or maybe gone numb. I draw a bath, keeping it lukewarm and adding some of the salts Vandera left to ease her aches.

Gunnar hasn’t changed forms, but he won’t leave her side. He sits next to the tub, his snout resting on the ledge as he purrs, watching me bathe her. Her hair is last, and when I wash it, she hums, breaking out of her silent stupor.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” she whispers as I wrap a towel around her before scooping her into my arms.

“No thanks necessary, baby girl,” I promise.

The rest of the afternoon is subdued, though she’s coming back to herself more and more. She insisted on wearing one of Gunnar’s guard shirts and one of my undershirts, and the tart juice of her scent has finally returned. On the couch in the den is a mound of blankets Gunnar brought out from her nest. When I poke my head out of the kitchen where I’m working on dinner, I can barely see her beneath the bedding and Gunnar’s fur.

They cuddle while I cook. The two of them eat their weight in snacks and watch some human reality TV show. Gunnar helps bring her out of her shell in that way he has of getting her to laugh. I’ve never seen something as cute as her giggling, hands thrown in the air in celebration as she tosses cheese cubes for Gunnar to catch. He gobbles them up and licks her face each time.

Those giggles turn to moans, and I peek my head out to see Gunnar’s furry hands wrapped around Randi’s spread thighs, his long tongue buried in her pussy.I didn’t know I needed to see my wolf-man in action, but my chopping knife hits the counter.

“What exactly is my naughty girl doing with her wolf?” I ask, voice already strained.

Our wolf-man doesn’t stop, pulling Randi’s hips closer. Watching him swirl his long tongue around her clit, then thrust back inside is so wrong, but it makes my cock rock hard.

He’s feasting on her, and she fucking loves it. One arm is clutched around the ledge of the couch while the other is buried in the soft fur between his ears. Little horny moans slip from between her teeth-bitten lips.

It looks like a painting of the word debauched .

The closer I get to the couch, the more her scent affects me. She’s dripping in juice, the scent of oranges thick in the air. I twist her nipple between my fingers and slap her other breast. She arches off the couch, nails digging into the leather as she comes.

That makes Gunnar lose it, his long tongue lapping at her as he growls.

Her eyes lift, finding mine. “Knot me, Alpha, please.”

“Look at my sweet omega begging so nicely.” I run my hand down over her chest, back and forth to cup and slap her tits, before I lean over and rub along the base of our wolf-man’s tail. “What a good boy you are for making our dragon come.”

He goes still—wavy tail pointing straight out before it wags again.

“Now, kneel for me, pup.”

He’s off the couch and kneeling before I’ve sat down. I pat my lap, and Randi crawls to me. Her pupils are blown, and her perfume is a heavy cloud around her.

I unzip my pants and take myself out, giving my hard cock a stroke. Randi doesn’t waste any time, crawling into my lap and seating herself in one go. She’s soaked and so far gone to the moment that she loops an arm around my neck and lifts her hips.Her gasp matches my guttural moan. My hands find her hips, my lips her neck, as she sets a fast rhythm.

“That’s a good girl, showing me how much you want me, taking my cock so good.”

My wolf eyes the two of us, that long tongue panting and his claws digging into his furry thighs.

I nip Randi’s neck and whisper loudly enough for our wolf to hear, “You want that tongue back, don’t you, baby girl? You want your wolf to suck and lick you while I stuff your little pussy on my cock?”

Randi turns rabid, her hips bouncing and her hands going to pinch her nipples. “Yes,” she moans.

Without waiting for my permission, our wolf-man lunges. That fucking tongue of his is wild, and the second he’s flicking it against her clit, she goes off, squeezing me so fucking good that I have to bite my tongue not to come.

She grinds against my knot, locking me inside, while our wolf-man’s wicked tongue laps at where we’re joined. It’s over. I can’t hold back. My dick pulses inside her, and I throw my head back. My fangs extend, and the need to sink my teeth into her neck is so overwhelming that it’s painful.

Cum lands on the spot where I’m locked to Randi, and I moan, watching as our wolf unloads on us. The scent of sage meets oranges as Gunnar throws back his head and howls.

Randi mewls on my lap, rocking her hips and watching as Gunnar rubs in his scent. He collapses at her feet, and seconds later, he’s snoring. I let her take what she needs, whispering praise in her ear and planting kisses on her neck until she comes for me again. When she settles, my knot deflates enough that I can pull out.

I wake Gunnar and hand her off to him before returning with towels and washcloths. I don’t get far. The two are plastered together, Randi on his chest, and both are deeply asleep. I take in the scene, some of the red haze of rut receding.

That was a heat spike, which means we’re running out of time.

By the time they’re up and showered, dinner is ready. The heat spike has lifted and so has her good mood. Dinner is mostly quiet and filled with the tart scent of her sadness and pain. By the time I’ve cleaned the dishes, she’s back in bed, asleep in the nest. Gunnar lies beside her, anxious and whimpering. I hold him, purring until he drifts into a fitful sleep.

I creep out of the bed and drive out to the isolated cabin. I need to come to terms with Knox, need to see for myself if there will be a way, because my wolf is telling me she needs all three of us.