Chapter 9 – REGINA
REGINA
I wake to the weight of muscular arms draped over me from either side, and a heavy rock on my feet. Nope, not a rock I realize when I move my feet and hear a pained groan at the foot of the bed.
A head.
Sean's head, to be exact.
Killian and Rowan flank me on either side, clearly trying not to touch even in sleep, while both being wrapped protectively around me.
Sean is curled up at my feet like a giant golden retriever.
There's no sign of Micah, but I can tell from his glasses on the bedside table and the blanket rumpled on the chair that he slept here, too.
My neck throbs with a pleasant ache, and when I reach up to touch it, my fingers brush against tender skin. Four distinct marks, slightly raised, sensitive to the touch.
The bonding ritual. It wasn't a dream.
I bolt upright, suddenly wide awake, and the room spins momentarily before settling.
I'm in my bedroom at the pack house, wearing an oversized shirt that isn't mine.
The scent of it—ocean breeze and clean laundry—tells me it's Sean's.
Sunlight pours through the windows, suggesting it's well into morning, maybe even afternoon.
"She's awake!"
Sean is sitting up, rubbing his head and grinning as if he's been waiting for hours even though I'm pretty sure I heard him snoring a second ago.
Killian and Rowan stir immediately, and Micah appears in the doorway, his hair sticking up at odd angles. Killian's ice-blue eyes scan my face intently.
"How do you feel?" he asks, his voice rough with concern.
I take a moment to actually consider the question. How do I feel? Different. Completely, utterly different.
The hollow emptiness that had plagued me since fleeing Kyle's coven is gone, replaced by a steady hum of energy that seems to flow through my entire body.
I can feel them, all four of them, like warm spots of light in my consciousness.
Killian burns the brightest, probably because he's the pack leader, but the others are there too, distinct presences that somehow feel both separate from me and part of me.
"I feel... good," I say, surprised by how true it is. "Better than good, actually. I feel strong."
The relief that washes over their faces is almost comical in its synchronicity.
"You scared the shit out of us," Sean says, pushing Rowan out of the way so he can cuddle up at my side. "You've been out for like, fourteen hours."
"Fourteen hours?" I echo, stunned. That's longer than I've slept in... well, possibly ever.
"The ritual took a lot out of you," Micah explains, pushing his glasses up his nose. "Villeneuve said it was normal, but..."
"But we've been worried anyway," Rowan finishes, his voice steady but his eyes betraying his concern.
“More like losing our shit,” Sean says, earning a collective glare from the others. “What? It’s true!”
I look at Killian, noting the dark circles under his eyes. "Did you sleep at all?"
He shrugs, a small, dismissive gesture. "Enough."
"None of us did," Sean corrects. "Well, maybe like an hour here and there, but we've been taking shifts watching you. And cleaning the whole frat house."
"Needed somewhere to expend the panic energy," Rowan mumbles, raking a hand through his dark hair.
Warmth spreads through me at the thought of them keeping vigil, protecting me even in sleep. It could feel invasive, having four massive wolves watching me while I'm unconscious, but instead it feels right. Safe.
"I'm sorry I worried you," I say, reaching up to touch my neck again. The bite marks are tender but not painful, and I can feel a subtle pulse of energy flowing through them, connecting me to each wolf in turn. "So it worked? The bond?"
"It worked," Killian confirms, his mouth curving into a smile that's equal parts relieved and possessive. "You're officially our Bonded. Our mate."
Our mate.
The words echo in my mind, and this time, I don't feel the instinctive urge to deny them.
After what we shared during the ritual—the mingling of consciousness, the flood of emotions, the absolute certainty I felt from each of them—there's no point in questioning it anymore.
They are my mates, and I'm theirs. The universe, in its infinite wisdom or twisted humor, has bound us together.
And I'm weirdly okay with that.
"How's your energy level?" Micah asks, studying me with curiosity in his gaze. "Can you feel the difference in the bond compared to your coven?"
I close my eyes, focusing inward. The bond with Kyle's coven had been like a tether—a single cord connecting me to a collective energy source, with Kyle as the gatekeeper, controlling how much power flowed to me.
This is... completely different. It's not a tether but a web, connecting me to each wolf individually while also linking us all together. And there's no gatekeeper. The energy flows freely between us, a constant exchange rather than a controlled distribution.
"It's nothing like the coven bond," I admit, opening my eyes. "It's stronger. More balanced. I can feel each of you separately, but also... together? It's hard to explain."
"You don't have to explain," Rowan says gently. "We feel it too."
"Are you hungry?" Sean asks, leaping up abruptly and already halfway to the door by the time he finishes the question. "You must be starving after the magical five-way. I'll make pancakes. Or eggs. Or both."
My stomach growls in response, and I realize I am ravenous.
"Definitely both," he says, grinning.
"Both sounds amazing, actually."
"I'll help," Micah volunteers, following Sean.
“More like supervise,” Killian mutters. “Sean thinks butter is a food group.”
"You should drink something first," Rowan says, handing me a glass of water from the night stand. "Hydration is important after magic that intense."
I take the glass gratefully, draining it in long gulps. The water is cool and refreshing, and I hadn't realized how thirsty I was until the first sip touched my lips.
"So," I say, setting the empty glass aside, "I'm officially bonded to four alpha shifters. If you'd told me that a month ago, I would have called the psych ward."
Killian chuckles, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. "If it helps, we didn't exactly plan it this way either."
"No?"
"We were just hoping for a regular Bonded," he admits. "The whole mate thing was a surprise. A good one," he adds quickly, "but definitely not what we were expecting."
I touch the marks on my neck again, tracing the pattern they form. Four distinct bites, arranged in a way that somehow feels intentional, artistic even. "It feels strange. Being marked like this."
Rowan's expression grows serious. "The bond isn't fully settled yet. There's still one more step. At least as far as a shifter bond goes."
Heat rushes to my face as I remember what that step entails from the books. The physical consummation of the bond. I've already been intimate with three of them, but not all four together, and not with the explicit purpose of sealing a magical connection.
"Right," I say, my voice coming out slightly higher than normal. "That part."
"No rush," Killian says, though his eyes darken with hunger. "You just woke up. You should eat, regain your strength."
"Absolutely," Rowan agrees, a little too quickly. "Food first. Everything else can wait."
The concern in their voices is touching, but I can feel their desire through the bond—a low, persistent heat that mirrors my own.
They want me, all of them, with an intensity that would be frightening if I couldn't also feel the restraint they're exercising, the genuine concern for my wellbeing that tempers their hunger.
"I should probably shower first," I say, pushing back the covers. "I feel like I've been marinating in ritual magic for fourteen hours."
"You kind of have been," Killian points out with a laugh. "I like the smell of our energy on you."
"Coming from a wolf, that's more concerning than flattering," I say dryly.
"We'll give you some privacy," Rowan says, already heading for the door. "Take your time. Breakfast will be ready when you are."
Killian looks like he wants to stay, but after a pointed look from Rowan, he reluctantly follows. I guess even the pack alpha occasionally takes direction from the others. "Call if you need anything," he says, pausing at the doorway. "Anything at all."
"I've been showering for two and a half decades," I say wryly. "I think I've got it covered."
"Yeah, but showering with me is a whole different experience," Killian says, flashing me a toothy grin.
I can't help but laugh. "I'll keep that in mind, big guy."
Once they're gone, I sit on the edge of the bed, taking a moment to center myself. The bond pulses steadily in the back of my mind, four distinct threads of energy connecting me to my wolves.
My wolves.
The thought is still strange, but not unpleasant.
I make my way to the bathroom, shedding Sean's oversized shirt as I go. The mirror above the sink reveals what I already know. There are four bite marks forming a pattern on my neck and shoulder.
And the glamour has faded completely.
Shit. I must not have been able to keep it up after the ritual.
And yet, none of them even blinked. I wouldn't have known the glamour was off from the way they looked at me, like the most perfect thing they've ever laid eyes on.
The marks shouldn't even be scarred yet, but they're already faded to the same silver as the scars on my face, just less angry. Four interlocking crescent marks, almost like a clover. I trace them with my fingertips, remembering the moment each wolf claimed me.
The sight of them should jar me, but instead, it feel right.
Those bites were nothing at all like the werewolf attack.
The entire time I was planning the ritual, I worried it would be too triggering to go through with it, but I didn't feel trapped or vulnerable in their arms. Not even with all that magic pulsing around us. I just felt safe.
Protected.
Adored.