Chapter 83 Willow #2
His answering groan is guttural, primal.
His mouth latches onto the other side of my neck, and the second his teeth break skin, my whole body bows in ecstasy.
It’s heat and light and belonging all at once, a tether snapping tight inside me, binding us together in a way that leaves no room for doubt.
The world blurs around me in a haze of heat and pleasure. My body thrums, every nerve alight, every sense tuned to them—my pack. My marks throb in perfect rhythm with my heartbeat, and it feels as if I can feel them in my soul.
Landon lifts his head from my neck, his eyes dark and shining. His lips are wet with my taste, and he looks wrecked, reverent. Finn is still pressed against me, his teeth marks stinging in the best way, his breath hot against my ear.
“Mine,” Landon whispers, like he can’t believe it, like he has to say it to make it real.
“All of ours,” Graham rumbles from somewhere near my legs, his deep voice vibrating through me. His big hand glides up my thigh, pausing to squeeze before it spreads me wider, his touch sure and claiming.
I whimper and arch into it, and that’s all the invitation they need.
Hands roam over my body, learning me again, reminding me how completely I belong to them.
Carson’s mouth replaces his fingers between my thighs, and I cry out as his tongue finds me, drawing circles that have my hips jerking.
Hunter kneels at my head, before he tugs me half into his lap, his chest to my back, and I melt into his warmth as his lips trace the curve of my shoulder.
His teeth graze my skin—teasing, promising—and my body trembles in response.
Landon moves lower, kissing a path down my chest, his tongue teasing a peak before he sucks lightly, and I’m gone, head tipping back into Hunter’s shoulder with a broken moan. Finn captures my lips in a kiss that steals the sound, slow and deep.
“You feel so good,” Carson groans from between my thighs, his voice vibrating through me. “So perfect like this, all of us on you…”
“Too much,” I gasp, my nails clawing for purchase in the nest of blankets. “I can’t—”
“Yes, you can,” Graham interrupts. He shifts, and I feel the press of his hand against my lower belly, holding me down as Carson works me over. “We’ve got you, sweetheart. Take it. Let us love you the way we’re meant to.”
The words, the hands, the mouths—they break me open. Heat coils tight in my core, spilling over as I arch and cry out, shattering apart on their touch. My orgasm rips through me like wildfire, my vision going white at the edges, and I collapse into Hunter’s arms, shaking.
But they’re not done.
Not until each of them has had their turn claiming me in every way, touching, kissing, and worshipping as though they’ve been waiting for this forever.
And each of our marks are on each other’s skin.
We are connected in every possible way. Their feelings are so strong and washing over me, I’m not sure I’ll ever leave this room.
By the time Landon finally slides into me, slow and deep, I’m already trembling and drenched, surrounded by the smell and heat of my pack. Finn strokes my cheek, Hunter kisses the top of my head, Carson and Graham hold my legs open, and I’m theirs completely—body and soul.
Four alphas. One beta. One omega. One pack.
Home.
By the time the sun creeps past the blinds, I feel wrung out and bliss-drunk, every inch of me marked and humming with them.
I drift in and out of sleep in my nest, the room heavy with the scent of us—of home.
My body feels loose, sated, boneless in the way only they can leave me.
Graham’s house hums around us, quieter than my apartment ever is, the steady tick of the hallway clock and the soft whir of the heating vent a lullaby under the weight of five warm bodies.
I roll lazily to my side and find Landon dozing next to Graham, his arm wrapped around him and lips parted, his mark on my neck still throbbing in perfect time with my heartbeat.
Finn’s arm is thrown across my stomach, his pencil calluses a rough comfort against my skin.
Hunter stirs behind me as I shift, one big hand instinctively sliding over my hip to keep me close.
My chest swells until it’s almost too full. Mine.
For the first time in what feels like forever, there’s no ache in my chest. No lonely hum under my skin. A perfect calmness and peace washes over me. I love this feeling. Of waking up with each of them humming inside me, even in sleep. It’s pure happiness.
Which lasts all of three minutes before reality knocks on the edges of my happiness. The thought of what comes next pokes at the edges of my perfect little cocoon. A knot of worry settles low in my stomach.
My dad.
I groan into the pillow. “He’s going to lose his mind.” I nudge Carson with my toes where he’s sprawled at the foot of the nest. “I need to tell him,” I whisper.
Carson cracks one eye open. “Tell who what, peaches?”
Finn’s head lifts slightly, brows drawing together in sleepy confusion. “Who are we talking about?”
“My dad.” The words make the air shift, the happiness in the room dipping into wary tension. I swallow, voice soft but certain. “He needs to know… about all of you. About us. That I have a pack now. That Finn and Landon are part of it, too.”
Finn freezes, his fingers twitching against my stomach. “Wait, didn’t your dad hire them to keep me away from you, and now…” his voice trails off, and his lips curve in an incredulous smile. “Oh, he’s gonna hate me.”
“He’s not gonna love me either,” Landon mutters, scrubbing a hand over his face.
Graham’s deep rumble cuts through the air, steady and grounding. “He’ll get over it. He just needs to see that she’s safe. That she’s happy.” He leans over Finn, and his arm hooks under me, lifting me into his lap. “And you are, aren’t you, sweetheart?”
I nod, my throat tight. “Yeah. Happier than I’ve ever been. I just…I don’t want to hide us. Not from my dad.”
Hunter leans forward, resting his hand on my thigh. “Then we go with you. All of us. He needs to see your pack the way it really is.”
Finn’s expression softens, as though he’s still stunned that he belongs here, that I’d fight for him too. “You really think he’ll let me stay?”
I press my palm against his cheek, feeling his slight tremor under my touch. “I don’t need his permission anymore. I just want his blessing.”
Carson grins, devil-may-care. “And if he doesn’t give it, we’ll charm the hell out of him until he does. Graham can put on his scary bodyguard face, Landon can smile like a Boy Scout, and Hunter and I will make him coffee until he caves.”
Finn lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “This is insane. Like, more insane than everyone thinks I am.”
“It’s us,” I correct gently. My heart feels as if it’s going to burst. “And it’s time he knew it.”
Graham’s truck hums beneath me as we pull into the long circular drive of my childhood home.
My stomach knots tighter with every second.
I can feel all five of them in different ways—Carson humming a tune under his breath, trying to lighten the mood, Hunter watching the windows as though we’re entering enemy territory, Graham steady as a rock behind the wheel.
Finn and Landon sit in the back with me, Finn’s thigh pressed against mine, Landon’s fingers tangled with mine under the blanket. My chest is buzzing, torn between the warmth of my pack and the sharp edge of dread.
The front door opens before Graham even shifts the truck into park.
My father steps out, crisp and controlled in a navy sweater, his silvering hair catching the winter light.
His gaze lands on me first, softening for the briefest second, then sweeps over the men climbing out behind me. The softness dies.
I brace myself.
“Willow.” His voice is brisk. “What is this?”
I swallow and force my voice steady. “This is…my pack.”
His jaw ticks. His gaze moves from Graham—whom he trusts—to Carson and Hunter—who I’m pretty sure he also trusts—and then lands on Landon, pausing, and finally Finn.
The recognition is instant. His face hardens. “Eric.” He doesn’t even look at me, already signaling toward the porch where Eric, his personal guard, steps out of the shadow. “Get my daughter inside. Now.”
“Dad—”
“Now,” he barks, and for a moment, I’m frozen in the crossfire of old habits and new life.
Eric moves, but Finn is faster. He steps between us with a subtle shift, his posture deceptively relaxed, but his eyes cold steel. “She’s not going anywhere with you if she doesn’t want to.”
My dad’s face darkens. “You. You’re the one I had to hire them to keep away from her. And now you’re—what? Playing house with her?”
Landon stiffens beside me, ready to defend my choices, but Finn doesn’t flinch. He just tilts his head, unruffled in a way that makes my dad’s fury spike higher.
“Dad, stop.” My voice cracks, but I push forward, moving to Finn’s side, my hand finding his without thinking. “This isn’t what you think. I’m safe. I’m happy. They’re my pack. All of them.”
“You think that means anything to me?” His laugh is humorless, bitter. “I gave you freedom. I let you run around the city and play your games, and this is what you do? You let the one man I told you to stay away from bite you, and you expect me to bless it?”
Graham finally steps forward, his size and calm authority filling the icy air.
“Sir. With all respect, she doesn’t need your blessing.
She wanted to tell you because she loves you.
Because she wanted you to see she’s not a little girl anymore—she’s an omega with a pack who would burn the world down for her. ”
Hunter’s voice follows, softer but laced with steel. “And you can try to pull her away, but she’s not leaving us.”