Chapter Six #2
Hunter let out a low whistle. “Damn. And here we thought we were bringing the big energy tonight.”
Lennox nudged her playfully. “Guess we’re just a couple of bears punching above our weight—which is considerable.”
She laughed softly. “Hardly. You fit right in here. Fated Ink has always been about found family, not status.”
Hunter smiled at that, tracing his thumb along her collarbone. “Still, it’s impressive. You’re building something strong. A home. A legacy.”
Brielle narrowed her gaze at him and Lennox frowned. “What is it, beautiful?”
Brielle ran a finger down his right bicep and he winced. “Sophia?”
“Yeah.” Lennox said, feeling the heat rise in his face. “Can I plead youth and stupidity?
Brielle stared at him for a moment. “Only if you have Ursula looking at something to cover it up.”
“Yes, sweetheart, I promise she is already working on something,” Lennox said quickly, then continued to change the subject, “So, what’s next for you, our beautiful witch?”
She hesitated, thoughtful. “Like I said earlier, I want to start writing, and maybe, if I am good enough, actually publishing something.”
Hunter smiled. “Now’s the time. You’ve got stories worth telling?”
Brielle looked up at him from beneath her lashes. “I do.”
Lennox propped himself up on one elbow. “Yeah? What kind?”
Brielle’s grin turned wicked. “Reverse harem romance.”
Lennox choked on his laugh while Hunter’s eyes darkened again. “That right?” Hunter murmured.
Lennox frowned, curious. “Wait—what even is a reverse harem romance?”
Brielle laughed, the sound was rich and mischievous. “It’s where one lucky woman ends up with multiple lovers instead of choosing just one.”
Lennox raised an eyebrow. “So ... like this? Like us?”
She smirked. “Exactly like this.”
Lennox grinned, looking between her and his brother. “You mean people actually read that?”
“Millions,” she said, teasing. “Apparently women like the idea of being adored, protected, and thoroughly ruined by more than one man for the rest of her very happy life.”
Hunter’s voice dropped an octave. “Then maybe we ought to help you with your research.”
“Research?” she echoed, pretending to consider it. “Well, it does help when the inspiration is hands-on.”
Lennox laughed, a deep, hungry sound. “Good thing we’re both overachievers.”
Brielle’s grin turned wicked as she stretched beneath them. “Then I guess class is in session.”
Hunter rolled over her, his mouth finding hers again while Lennox’s laughter rumbled low beside them. “Then let’s make sure you have plenty to write about.”
Her laughter melted into a moan as their bodies tangled again, the night stretching endlessly before them.
****
Brielle’s laughter from the night before still echoed in Lennox’s head as the morning sun broke over the skyline.
When she’d mentioned wanting to see their bears, he’d thought she was joking.
But now she stood in front of them, wearing jeans, boots, and a jacket, her rich brown skin glowing in the soft light, her curls dancing in the crisp forest air.
“Show me,” she said, eyes bright with anticipation. “I want to meet them.”
Hunter gave Lennox a look that said this could go sideways fast. But Lennox just grinned. “All right, sweetheart. Just remember—you asked for it.”
They led her deep into the forest where the scent of pine and damp earth filled the air. When they reached the clearing, he felt the pull of his bear stir. His bones ached, the shift calling. “Stay close,” he told her.
“I’m not afraid,” Brielle said, and her confidence made something primal in him growl in approval.
Hunter chuckled, peeling off his shirt and kicking off his boots. “Might wanna look away, sweetheart. Things are about to get ... hairy.”
Lennox harrumphed. “Speak for yourself, Yeti. I am perfectly manscaped.”
Hunter rolled his eyes as Brielle laughed. “I was talking about our bears.”
Brielle smirked, crossing her arms. “You’re both acting like I haven’t seen naked men before. Though if this goes wrong, I’m definitely getting hazard pay.”
Lennox burst out laughing, tugging his shirt over his head. “Hazard pay? Baby, after last night and that purple flame you were conjuring, you owe us.”
She raised a brow, her grin teasing. “Pretty sure that’s not how that works.”
Their laughter filled the clearing, warm and unrestrained, before fading into a quiet charged with energy. Hunter gave her one last look—one that said trust me—and nodded to Lennox.
Then the change took hold. Lennox’s body stretched and cracked, fur spilling over skin as his bear surged forward.
The world sharpened—sound, scent, and color exploding around him.
When his vision cleared, Brielle stood motionless, eyes wide but not fearful.
Instead, she smiled, stepping forward slowly.
“Oh, my goddess,” she breathed, reaching out. “You’re both beautiful.”
Hunter’s bear emerged beside him—larger, darker, his fur a rich russet hue. The two of them rumbled in greeting, circling Brielle protectively. She laughed, the sound soft and wonder-filled.
Lennox dropped his head, nudging her hand until her fingers slid through his fur. Her touch sent warmth all the way to his core. She was fearless, petting him, scratching behind his ear. “You’re purring,” she whispered in awe.
He wasn’t, not really—but the deep rumble that left his chest might as well have been.
“Can I...?” she asked, glancing at Hunter’s bear. “Can I ride you?”
Hunter’s bear huffed, and Lennox swore he saw amusement in the animal’s eyes. He knelt, lowering himself so she could climb on. She hesitated only a second before swinging one leg over his back, her fingers curling into the thick fur at his neck.
Brielle’s laugh rang through the forest as Hunter started to move, slow at first, then faster, running through the trees, the wind rushing around them.
He could feel her joy, the thrill pouring off her in waves.
Lennox kept pace watching their mate carefully and when Hunter finally slowed, Lennox was there waiting in the next clearing, his bear pacing with a pleased growl.
Brielle slid down, her cheeks flushed. “That was incredible,” she said breathlessly. “You two are incredible.”
Lennox shifted back, catching his breath as his human form returned. Naked and grinning, he said, “You handled that beautifully, sweetheart.”
She laughed, eyes sparkling. “You’re lucky I didn’t fall off.”
Hunter, now human again, moved closer, brushing his thumb along her jaw. “You wouldn’t have. We’d never let you get hurt.”
The forest was quiet except for the rustle of leaves and the pounding of their hearts. Brielle looked between them, her voice softer now. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this ... safe.”
Lennox caught the way Hunter’s gaze softened. “That’s because you’re ours,” Hunter said simply. “Out here, in the city, anywhere—you’re safe with us.”
Something changed in her expression—something deeper than desire. She stepped closer, her fingers tracing the lines of Lennox’s chest before reaching for Hunter’s hand. “Then show me,” she whispered.
Hunter pulled her in first, kissing her slow and deep, his other hand finding her waist. Lennox moved behind her, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck.
She sighed, caught between them again, and when Hunter lowered her gently to the moss-covered ground, the scent of pine and earth wrapped around them.
They took their time this time—no urgency, just connection.
Hunter kissed her as Lennox explored her with slow, teasing touches.
The air was cool, but her skin burned under their hands.
She arched when Lennox slid a hand between her thighs, and Hunter swallowed her moan with his mouth. Everything about her felt like home.
When Lennox entered her, Hunter knelt up so she could take him in her mouth, his hand on her cheek, grounding her.
Every movement was unhurried, filled with reverence.
She had to work not to lose herself in the feeling of Lennox making love to her, so she could love on Hunter the way he deserved.
The rhythm built slowly until all three were gasping, trembling, the forest echoing with their cries.
When it was over, they stayed tangled together, the sunlight dappled across their skin. Brielle rested her head against Lennox’s chest, her fingers tracing idle patterns across Hunter’s stomach.
“This place,” she whispered. “I get why you love it.”
Lennox kissed her hair. “Good. Because it’s yours now, too.”
Hunter nodded in agreement. “Ours.”
And for a long, peaceful moment, the only sounds were their breaths, the rustle of leaves, and the slow return of the forest to silence.
****
Caleb sat in the dim light of the motel room, the city noise a dull hum beyond the cracked window. His fingers tapped against the table, the rhythm steady, methodical. Everything was falling into place.
He’d been patient, watching from the shadows while she rebuilt her life.
She thought she’d escaped him—thought her magic made her untouchable.
But Caleb had learned more since she’d gone, about her power, about the kind of blood she carried.
The sort of blood that could open doors, bridge worlds, if properly . .. persuaded.
A slow smile curled at his lips as he pictured her—the way she used to look at him with those fierce eyes before defiance gave way to fear. He remembered the taste of her tears, the tremor in her voice when she whispered his name.
“You were made for me, Brielle,” he murmured, running a hand through his hair. “And soon, you’ll remember that.”
He leaned back in the chair, staring at the knife on the table.
Its silver edge caught the light, reflecting the gleam in his eyes.
He dragged his thumb along the blade until a bead of blood welled up, smiling as it dripped onto the scarred wood.
Pain sharpened his focus, grounding him in his obsession.
Every part of his plan hinged on her. Her blood. Her magic. Her submission. He needed her to unlock what the Council could not—to make him powerful enough to never crawl again. The thought of bending her will, of feeling her fight and then break, sent heat coursing through him.
Caleb closed his eyes, the fantasy rising unbidden. He imagined her cornered, her magic flaring wild and bright, until he crushed it with a single command. He imagined her breath catching, her body trembling, her voice breaking on his name—not with love, but surrender.
His breath quickened, his hand drifting lower as the vision consumed him. Each thought of her pain, her helplessness, fed the fever in his blood. His groan was rough, primal, when it broke free.
When it was done, he sat motionless, sweat cooling on his skin. The sound of the city crept back in—the rumble of traffic, a distant siren. He wiped his hand on his shirt, slow and deliberate, before cleaning the blade and setting it beside a notebook filled with sketches and symbols.
Caleb leaned forward, whispering to the knife as if it could hear him. “I’m coming for you, Brielle. You’ll bleed for me. And when it’s done, your power will belong to me.”
Then he smiled again—small, precise, and full of promise—and began to plan his next move.