Chapter 40
forty
brIAR
The fire makes sense.
I know it shouldn’t. Because my clothes feel wet. My skin is slick. The sky is dark. And the windows are fogged.
But the flames that lick to life above us, flickering in some hanging glass-and-metal thing? Well, at least they explain why I’m melting.
My Omega is no help. In fact, if her constant litany of apologies is any indication, she’s the reason I can’t remember my own name. Or anyone else’s.
I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.
It’s too late for me to figure out what she’s apologizing for. More colors blur around me—crisp fabric, dark green leaves, swirls of red and white, yellow flames, black metal.
The blue eyes of a wolf.
They belong to my alpha. The one whose name I can’t recall—but I know he’s mine. The possessive lurch clamoring through my middle is sharp enough to draw another whine out of me. Pain twists all the muscles below my waist.
The alpha growls a low curse. One of his hands drops to my midsection, palm pressed flat over a sudden squelch of molten pressure.
Is it a cramp? Or a climax? It feels like some unholy combination. A tight, painful squeeze that somehow makes my pussy throb.
Another tweak impales my aching muscles, my core contracting under the warm weight of his hand. Perfume pours out of me, the scent of dark cherries and sweet berries swirling into the soup of sensations that don’t make sense.
The room tilts and I try to stay upright, rearing back. Into him.
It’s my other alpha. Larger, covered in scars and tattoos. But I recognize him, too. He belongs to me every bit as much as the man rubbing soothing circles over my belly.
The second alpha’s solid strength wraps around me. Every nerve in my body tingles, then screams. Wanting more. Needing less of the fabric blocking me from his bare skin.
I don’t know his name, but black ink patterns and slices of marked skin flash through my mind. His rugged features and solemn expression are familiar, especially when his thick, walnut brows knit. “What do you need, moonbeam?”
I try to reply, barely managing a whimper. My fingers scrabble for the hand cupping my belly, pressing the pack alpha’s palm into me harder. It feels good when he starts to stroke downward, toward the gaping ache in my core. But there’s something missing. Something wrong.
Another shrill sound cracks up my throat and the big man behind me hums, his chest vibrating powerfully against my spine. It shakes all of my tension loose, but it can’t quell the fear swirling in my stomach.
“She’s burning up,” a distant voice grits. “I can feel her body heat from here. Once it’s over, she’s going to crash.”
The edge of the third man’s tone is familiar in the best and worst way.
Him.
He’s the one I’m missing.
And the one I’m afraid won’t care.
I struggle weakly, trying to find his pale features. When I do, a new kind of horror dawns.
Why does he look like that? Is he injured? Sick?
Our eyes meet across the dim, musty room. His scent intensifies into something medicinal and cold. It slices my raw throat as I gasp it in, unable to look away from the swirling aqua pools reflecting pain back at me.
The creases around his eyes pull tighter, but his scowl softens. “I know,” he rasps, the words ragged breaths. “I don’t deserve to touch you like this. So I won’t.”
I won’t. I won’t. I won’t.
He won’t come closer. He won’t let me have him. He won’t be my alpha.
Agony ruptures in the deepest part of me. I feel more wetness on my face as I whine, turning into the woodsy, comforting scent behind me.
“Rhys,” the big one barks out. “If you’re going to reject your mate, the least you can do is get out.”
That thought alone is enough to make me wail. The tortured alpha lurches toward me, but catches himself. More misery fills his face. His scent cuts through my marrow, tweaking the pain between my hips.
The pack leader gathers me into his chest next, purring louder. I try to nuzzle him, wishing I could hide from the one rejecting me. Scratchy fabric chafes my cheek, but it disappears a second later, replaced by warm, perfectly spiced skin.
I sob quietly, rubbing my face between his pecs as he hums. “Hush, now. No one is going anywhere. Your alpha is going to get over himself and help us get you off. He would never reject his mate. Right, Rhys?”
The solid roll of alpha power that accompanies the smooth words soothes the restless squirm in my lungs. Even before the beautiful, haunted alpha fists his hands at his sides and stalks toward us.
It’s like a missing piece of my universe slots into place when he steps between the others. Eucalyptus and mossy oak, all threaded with the sweetest spiced smoke.
The edges of my vision blur. The worst cramp yet stabs my core and twists. Fresh panic flares in my middle as something thick and warm slides down my thighs.
The one with the white hair stares at the soaked skirt clinging to my legs. His throat bobs, but he reaches over and strokes his knuckle along the slit in the red fabric.
A small, distant piece of my mind blares inaudible warnings at me—reminders that this alpha isn’t safe, somehow. But my body doesn’t care.
It’s not fair for something so dangerous to feel so good. How does one touch banish the chill from my bones and cool my overheated blood with a rush of relief?
The alpha’s elegant fingers skim to the molten throb at the top of my thighs, tracing the wet silk covering my clit. I choke and lightning flashes in his eyes. His voice purrs along with his chest, both rough and uneven. “Should I stop?”
Oh God.
More perfume pours out of me. Rich tartness seems to fill the entire glass room within seconds. The others growl, their hands coming to the bodice of my dress. Unzipping, shoving it aside. Caressing me while the third alpha pets the soaked seam of my pussy.
A punch of pain hammers into my abdomen and I gasp an answer. “Don’t stop.” The cramp clenches harder. “Alpha, please.”
I don’t know who I’m pleading with, but they all respond. The big man drops his face to my hair, scent-marking me as the blond one gasps a ragged inhale. The pack leader with his arms banded around me drops a kiss to my forehead and issues a low command for his packmate.
“I think you’d better get on your knees for my wife.”
The pale alpha’s eyes spark before flying to mine. I can’t understand why, but the heat in his cool irises softens into something warm.
“Is that what you want, pretty baby?” he hums, lowering himself to the ground. “My mouth on this sweet pussy?”
I can’t even picture what he’s asking, but the snippets I do understand—his chiseled lips and sharp tongue, all over the insistent throb dribbling slick down my legs—is enough to prompt a moan.
The big man makes a chuffing sound of approval, hiding a slight smile in my hair. “Make it good,” he mutters to his packmate. “This is her first time.”
All of their scents spike. The leader growls while the one on his knees groans, resting his forehead on the place between my hips that pulls tighter every second.
I buck and whimper, begging, “P-please. I-it hurts.”
His angelic face contorts for a split second, pain cracking his marble features before they ease back into a tender expression.
“Okay, baby,” he whispers, sliding his hands into my skirt and up my thighs, pooling it around my waist. He plants a kiss over the soaked hem of my panties. “I’ll make it better.”
His fingers slowly peel the sodden lace from my core, dropping the scrap to the concrete. Light eyes leap to my mound, sparkling when he sees the slick glistening on my thighs. He skirts both thumbs along the edges of the exposed pink flesh, purring and growling simultaneously.
His expression is feral, but his touch feels reverent. He strokes his fingertips along the parted lips, breathing hard enough to shake his shoulders. “Jesus, Briar.”
Right. Briar. That’s… me?
The big man braces behind me, securing his tattooed arm around my waist. When I realize all of his skin is exposed, I keen, scrabbling to pull the suffocating bodice covering me out of his way.
He shoves it down easily, fitting his warmth into my bare spine. I can’t finish gasping before the alpha on his knees spreads my plump pussy lips and presses his mouth over my clit.
Slick heat glides along the throbbing nub, a thousand tingles of bliss erupting in my core. His hands clutch me harder, lips skimming a slow circle around the bundle of pure sensation.
A garbled moan ekes out of me as my vision swirls. A fresh bolt of pain stabs my internal muscles. They flutter around the emptiness aching to be filled and more perfume pours from my pussy.
The alpha’s tortured groan flips my stomach. “Oh God, Briar,” he practically cries. “I can taste you.”
Before I can wonder what he means, his fingertip grazes the spasming ring of my entrance. It clamps around that touch, trying to suck it deeper.
We both moan again. His tongue laps around the sides of my clit as he works his finger into me. Two rough hands slide up my torso and palm my breasts, rolling my rock-hard nipples.
I clamp down instantly. Every strained muscle singing and melting and gushing. The pressure climbs to a crescendo, pleasure suddenly shattering the pain. It pulses into my limbs, chasing the fire, singeing my nerves. Soothing the sizzling snaps with pure bliss.
“Here.”
As I work to remember how to breathe, the big alpha lifts me up and the one on his knees rips the dress off. My brain lolls in my skull, but I suddenly have a memory. Their names.
Dane, I think, as the mountain of strength positions me on someone’s lap.
And the one on the hard, dirty floor, gaping at me like I’ve just revealed myself to be some sort of mythological creature… that’s Rhys. He’s supposed to hate me, but right now, loathing is the furthest thing from whatever his face is doing.
A new set of hands smooths my damp hair off my face. “Look at me.”
Cillian.
I meet his icy eyes, satisfaction blooming in my middle. I can’t explain why—but he’s just… mine. My alpha. And being naked on his lap feels like a huge relief.
For a moment, his expression is full of soft concern. But then I blink at him. His sculpted mouth flits into a slight smile. “Hmm,” he murmurs, “I’m not sure how I feel about you obeying without any debate, Mrs. Blackwood.”
He plucks my left hand off his chest and brings it to his lips, planting a reverent kiss on my ring finger. “Does it still hurt?”
His mouth grazes my knuckles and turns my body to jelly. I tremble, a spiral of pure need sucking at my wobbly core. My pussy quivers, the stretchy ring of muscle inside aching and throbbing harder.
Oh God.
Does that mean…?
“I think—I need—” I try to choke out the words, but they refuse to come. Not while I’m trapped in his crystal gaze. I drop my chin, hiding my face as shame heats my cheekbones.
But for the first time, in the face of my upset, Cillian doesn’t go still or let me squirm. His purr rolls into a deep, sonorous sound, the vibration lulling me closer as he wraps an arm around my waist and cups my jaw in his hand.
Without a word, he turns me toward him. Locking our eyes, projecting patience and affection. So steady. Subtly in control, overtly dominant.
The look says, You will tell me. But it also says, I’d wait forever to hear what you think.
And he will, I realize.
All this time, all his plays. He’s been waiting for me. For years.
I still don’t know how. Or why. But I do know one thing…
Solid alpha energy unblocks my throat while his purr melts the thorny vise around my lungs. “Knot,” I manage, the word a slight whine. “Please, alpha.”
They all snarl. Rhys doubles over with a tormented groan as Dane and Cillian both move.
Dane comes to stand next to me, brushing my hair from my shoulder.
Sending fresh shivers creeping along my spine and more perfume spilling into Cillian’s lap as the pack alpha’s free hand drops to his fly, tearing it open.
I watch his cock spring free, the thick, solid shaft already roped in visibly throbbing veins. And there, at the base, a swollen knot the size of his fist.
I don’t think. I can’t.
My body takes control, rising onto my knees and bucking against his erection. Keening. Crying.
A desperate sound catches in my throat. The fingers curled around my face stroke tenderly. “Look at me.”
My blurred gaze snaps to his. Cillian’s intense stare sinks into me as he positions himself under my pussy. “You will look at me when I give you my cock,” his smooth voice rumbles. “And say my name while my knot fills your cunt.”
My entire body shakes, straight down to my soul. I try to nod, but that becomes me bouncing in place, more pleading noises scraping up my throat.
The devil’s ice-blue eyes glint, softening on mine. “Good girl,” he praises, infusing the words with delicious alpha power. Slicing as deeply as any blade while he guides himself into my quivering core. “Take this big alpha cock. Now.”
The bark snaps through my bloodstream and my hips automatically drop, sheathing his girth in one go. My head falls back as sensation spears the ache in my depths. Stirring it up, bumping it higher. Until every nerve is blazing and buzzing. Begging me to—to—
“You can take it,” my husband vows. “You can take me.”
Oh God.
I hold his gaze… and let myself fall. Another orgasm tightens every muscle in my body. Working in tandem to suck at the wide swell pressed against my pussy. Tugging it past the fluttering opening, stretching me around his earth-shattering knot.
Cillian roars, but doesn’t look away. His irises go up in flames, burning paths to mine. Echoing the ethereal sense of completeness that hits just before I tumble into one final climax. He expands, popping into the place that was only ever meant for him.
Them.
This.
And as he holds our stare, marking me with his release—remolding me from the inside out—I know I’m ruined.
Damned. Free.
But somehow more trapped than ever.