Chapter 10 – KILLIAN
KILLIAN
I can't stop the growl that rips from my throat when Sadie touches Regina's neck—our mate's neck—where our marks are still fresh. The sound is instinctive, coming from somewhere so deep inside me that I couldn't control it if I tried.
"We're not ready for visitors," I bite out, my voice unintentionally rough. "The bond isn't solidified yet."
Sadie's hand drops from Regina's neck, but the witch just rolls her eyes at me, completely unfazed by my display. That's the problem with Micah's stepsister. She's known us too long to be properly intimidated.
"That's no way to treat the witch who helped you complete the ritual, dickhead," she fires back, crossing her arms. The countless bangles on her wrists jangle with the movement. "But fine. I just brought these."
She reaches into her oversized bag—seriously, what the fuck does she keep in there, a portal to another dimension?—and pulls out a small velvet pouch tied with silver thread. The magic buzzing around it is subtle but unmistakable.
"For you," she says, handing the bag to Regina. "Balancing stones. They'll help stabilize the energy exchange between you and these four overgrown puppies. Should make the transition smoother."
Regina accepts the pouch with a genuine smile that makes my heart do a handstand, and my possessive wolf relaxes a little. Only a fraction. "Thank you, Sadie. For this and for everything else. I couldn't have done this without your help."
And then something happens that makes all four of us freeze in shock. Regina steps forward and hugs Sadie. Actually hugs her.
And Sadie—prickly, touch-averse, would-rather-die-than-show-affection Sadie—doesn't recoil.
She shocks us all by hugging Regina back, albeit briefly and with a look on her face like she's going to wither and melt into a puddle of witch goop if it lasts a second longer.
"Sure," Sadie grumbles, stepping back and adjusting her chunky silver necklace like it's suddenly too tight. "When these idiots are done being overprotective cavemen about you, call me and we'll get that coffee." She shoots a pointed look at Micah. "The nerd can give you my number."
"I will," Regina promises, still smiling.
Sadie nods, then turns to leave, pausing only to flip me off one last time before she's out the door. At least some things haven't changed in the last twenty-four hours.
Now that it's just the pack, I let myself breathe. Maybe Sadie's right. My protective instincts are in overdrive. I thought I was bad enough before Regina was officially our mate.
I'm acutely aware of our witch standing there, her scent mingling with ours, the bond between us still new and raw and hungry. My wolf paces beneath my skin, impatient and possessive. The need to solidify our connection is an obsession, like an unscratched itch just under my skin.
But Regina needs strength after what she's been through. I force myself to focus on that, on taking care of her immediate needs rather than my own desperate hunger for her.
"Breakfast," I say, the word coming out gruffer than I intended. "You need to eat."
Regina looks at me, and I know she can feel what I'm feeling through our new bond. The corner of her mouth quirks up in a half-smile that does dangerous things to my self-control.
"I am hungry," she admits, moving toward the table where Rowan has already set out plates.
Sean returns to his pancakes with renewed focus, flipping them like he's auditioning for the fucking Food Network. "Coming right up, sexy witch. I made chocolate chip ones just for you. They're shaped like my package," he says, waggling his eyebrows.
"How incredibly appetizing," she says dryly, but I can feel her amusement.
We settle around the table, and I find myself sitting closer to Regina than necessary, my thigh pressed against hers. I can't help it. The wolf in me needs the contact, needs to be near her, to feel her warmth and reassure itself that she's really here, really ours.
The others are no better. Micah keeps finding excuses to brush against her as he serves the eggs. Sean actually feeds her a bite of dick-shaped pancake from his own fork. She doesn't seem to notice the shape.
Rowan hasn't taken his eyes off her since she sat down. He's no better than the rest of us when it comes to our mate, even if he's better at pretending he's aloof.
Regina takes a bite of pancake and makes a cute little noise of appreciation that goes straight to my groin. "These are amazing, Sean. Especially for food shaped like a dick and balls."
Oh, she noticed.
"Told you," he grins, looking absurdly pleased with himself. "I'm a culinary genius."
"When you're not putting Doritos in ramen," Rowan mutters.
"Genius is often mocked before it's recognized," Sean says in the tone of a martyr, pointing his fork at Rowan accusingly.
Regina laughs, and the sound predictably makes my wolf purr. She's safe. She's ours. The thought keeps repeating in my head like a mantra, like if I think it enough times it might fully sink in.
"Are you guys always going to be like this?" Regina asks suddenly, looking around at the four of us.
"Like what?" Micah asks, trying to look innocent.
"This..." She gestures vaguely with her fork. "Protective. Territorial. Freaking out anytime someone outside the pack touches me. You were all fucking ridiculous before, but it's like you've all been dialed up to eleven since the ritual."
I exchange glances with the others. None of us want to lie to her, but the truth might be a bit much for her to handle right now. The ritual has changed things between us, intensified the mate bond in ways I'm still trying to process myself.
"Yes," I admit finally, because she deserves honesty. "The bond makes us more... attuned to you. More protective. And we're always going to flip about the idea of anyone touching you. The only reason I didn't bite her hand off is because she's Micah's sister."
"Wolves are kind of extra, and alphas are extra-extra," Sean adds with a grin that's all teeth. "But in a good way."
"You're our Bonded now," Rowan explains in his calm, measured way. "Our mate. The instinct to protect and provide for you is... significant."
"More like overwhelming," Micah corrects, looking slightly sheepish. "Sorry."
Regina sighs, but I can feel she's not actually upset. More like resigned, maybe even a little amused. "And is this going to calm down when we..." She trails off, a blush coloring her cheeks.
"When we plow you like four freight trains in a tunnel?" Sean offers.
"Solidify the bond," I correct through my teeth, stomping on his foot underneath the table. He howls in pain. "Probably not, but it couldn't hurt."
The air in the kitchen shifts. I can smell her arousal mingling with our own. The bond between us turns into a feedback loop of horny that's becoming increasingly impossible to ignore.
"We should finish breakfast first," Rowan says, always the practical one, though his voice is rougher than usual. "You need your strength."
Especially for what I'm about to do to her.
Regina takes another bite of pancake, her movements slow and casual, almost teasing. "I'm feeling stronger by the minute, actually."
"The bond is already feeding you energy," Micah observes, his eyes bright with interest. "Even without the final step."
"It's different from the coven bond," she agrees. "More reciprocal."
"That's because we're not assholes who see you as a magical battery," I growl, still furious at how Kyle and his coven treated her. "You're our equal. Our counterbalance."
"Our mate," Sean adds, the word carrying a weight that makes Regina's breath catch audibly.
She sets down her fork, looking at each of us in turn.
The glamour is still in place, hiding her scars, but I can almost see the real her underneath it.
I want her to see herself the way we see her, but I know that will take time for her to feel that safe.
Even when it's just us. Trust is earned, not demanded.
No matter how much the beast in me wants it.
"I think I've had enough breakfast," she says, her voice steady despite the flush spreading across her cheeks.
Four sets of eyes lock onto her, like wolves on the hunt spotting movement in the woods.
"Are you sure?" Rowan asks. "There's no rush."
"I'm sure," she says, and I can feel her certainty through the bond, bright and clear as a bell.
"Good," I say, the word coming out like a growl. "Because we're going crazy with the need to taste you, little witch."
"Actually," Rowan interrupts, standing up from the table, "I believe I'm first."
We all turn to look at him, surprised by the declaration.
Rowan is usually the most restrained of us, the least likely to stake a claim or assert dominance without a damn good reason.
It's not that he can't, he's as dominant as the rest of us when push comes to shove, but he needs a damn good reason.
And he's found one.
There's nothing restrained about him now. His eyes are dark with need, his usual composed demeanor replaced by something almost feral.
"I've been waiting the longest," he continues, his gaze fixed on Regina. "I'm the only one who hasn't had a taste of her yet."
I want to argue, my wolf bristling at being told to wait, but he's right. Being pack leader isn't about just shoving your way to the front of the line, it's about fairness and keeping order. Making sure we don't overwhelm our mate by jockeying to push each other out of the way to get to her.
Sean, Micah, and I have all had our moments with Regina, and they need to bond. We need all our scents marking her, inside her. Claiming her.
Regina's eyes widen slightly, but I can feel her response through the bond—curiosity, arousal. She wants it too, which is the only thing that really matters.
"Seems fair," she says, her voice carrying notes of amusement and arousal.
Rowan extends his hand to her. "Shall we?"
She places her hand in his, allowing him to pull her to her feet. The motion brings her body flush against his, and the contact sends a jolt through our bond that we all feel. Four sharp inhales, four racing hearts.
Time to solidify our bond and let the whole damn world know this witch belongs to us.