Chapter 12 – MICAH
MICAH
When I first open my eyes with a groggy stretch and yawn, I'm disoriented for a moment by the warmth surrounding me from all directions.
Then the memory of the ritual and the bonding last night slams into me and my wolf settles with a satisfied rumble.
We're all still in the makeshift nest, but the arrangement has shifted during the night. What started out as a careful configuration around our mate has devolved into a tangle of limbs that no geometry textbook could name.
Sean has somehow managed to become perpendicular to the rest of us, one leg thrown across Killian's neck and his face mashed into a pillow, snoring like a bear wielding a chainsaw.
Rowan has curled protectively around Regina's back, one arm draped over her waist. Killian occupies the position closest to the door, because apparently his pack alpha instincts never fully shut off, even in sleep.
And me? I get to be on my side facing Regina, close enough that her breath tickles my collarbone with each exhale.
She looks different in sleep. Softer. The wariness that usually shadows her features has melted away, and my wolf purrs knowing she feels safe with us. Her glamour is still down, the silvered scars catching the morning light.
They're beautiful.
She's beautiful.
And through our newly solidified bond, I can feel her presence like a second heartbeat.
Ours.
Regina's eyes flutter open, that striking blue meeting mine. For a moment, she looks confused, then a slow smile curves her lips.
"Morning," she murmurs, voice rough with sleep.
"Morning, pretty witch." I resist the urge to kiss her with my morning breath. That's a thing, even for bonded mates. Of course, hers smells good. Like mint somehow. Maybe it's magic. "How do you feel?"
She takes a moment to actually consider the question, her brow furrowing slightly in concentration. Through our bond, I sense her taking internal inventory.
"Good," she says finally, sounding almost surprised. "Really good, actually. Like I've been running on empty for years and someone finally filled the tank."
"That's the bond," I explain, keeping my voice low to avoid waking the others. Though judging by Sean's snoring, a bomb wouldn't wake him. "Your magic has a stable source now. Us."
"It's different from the coven bond." She shifts slightly, her hand finding mine between us. The contact sends a pleasant warmth through my entire body. "It feels symbiotic."
"That's how it should be." I squeeze her fingers gently. "A bond should strengthen you, not cage you."
Killian stirs behind her, his voice a sleep-rough rumble. "She's awake?"
"Yeah," I confirm, grinning.
He props himself up on one elbow, leaning over to press a kiss to Regina's shoulder where his mark sits. "How do you feel?"
Regina laughs softly. "Micah already asked me that."
He snorts. "And?"
"Good. Apparently my tank is full."
Rowan shifts on her other side, roused by our conversation. "Any residual effects from the ritual? Dizziness? Unusual sensations?"
"I feel like I ran a marathon and then got the best massage of my life," Regina says with a soft, groggy laugh. "Everything's kind of pleasantly sore."
"That's my fault," Sean says, stretching out languidly until Killian shoves his leg away. "Monster dick. Sorry."
"Dumbass," Rowan mutters under his breath, turning back to Regina. "Your body went through a ton of magical stress. The soreness should fade by tomorrow."
"In the meantime, we need to make sure you rest and stay nourished," Killian says, climbing out of bed. "Speaking of which, someone needs to make breakfast."
"I vote not me," I say immediately.
"Seconded," Sean adds.
Killian narrows his eyes at us. "We could settle this like adults."
Regina looks between us with growing curiosity. "What does that mean?"
"Lasers, nukes, and chainsaws," I explain, already forming my hand into position. "It's how we decide things."
"Wait, what?" Regina asks, cocking an eyebrow.
"Because rock paper scissors isn't cool enough," Sean says, like it should be obvious. He's already got his fist locked and loaded.
Regina stares at us like we've collectively lost our minds. "I'm sorry, lasers, nukes, and what now?"
"Chainsaws," Killian says, as if this is perfectly reasonable. "Lasers cut through chainsaws, chainsaws slice through nukes, nukes vaporize lasers. Standard hierarchy."
"That makes absolutely no sense."
"It makes perfect sense," Sean says with a wide grin. "Chainsaws can't be irradiated because they're too badass. Everyone knows this."
"Everyone where?" Regina asks, her lips quivering like she's trying not to laugh. "In what universe is that common knowledge?"
"This one. The universe we live in." Sean sits up, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "You'll learn to love it, Storm."
"Highly doubtful."
Despite her protests, Regina watches with evident fascination as we all form our chosen shapes. On three, we throw—and I curse under my breath when my chainsaw gets vaporized by Killian's nuke. Rowan's laser cuts through Sean's chainsaw.
"Draw," Killian declares.
Second round commences. Killian and Sean both throw laser, Rowan and I throw nuke.
"Ha!" I crow triumphantly. "Kitchen duty for you losers!"
Killian's glare could strip paint. "Best of three."
"That doesn't even make sense," Regina says flatly, still desperate to apply some logic to this.
"Nope," I insist. "House rules. You lost, you cook."
"Man," Sean grumbles, rolling out of the nest with surprising energy for someone who was comatose a minute ago. "I think you guys cheated."
"That's literally not possible," Rowan says. "Besides, someone has to make sure Killian doesn't burn the bacon."
"I don't burn bacon," Killian growls.
"You burned it last Thursday."
"That was intentional. I like it crispy."
"There's crispy and then there's atomized, bro," Sean counters.
Their bickering fades as they head toward the kitchen, leaving me and Rowan alone with Regina in the nest. She's watching them go with an expression somewhere between bewildered and entertained. Maybe even both.
"Is every morning with you guys like this?" she asks.
"Pretty much," I admit with a dry laugh. "I mean, other than the sleeping in the same bed thing. That's new. But we're not exactly what you'd call… refined."
"I'm gathering that." She stretches, wincing slightly at the movement. "I should probably shower. I feel like I've been marinating in magic."
Among other things, I think with another grin tugging at my lips, but I don't say it.
"We could help with that," Rowan offers, trying very hard not to sound eager.
Regina's cheeks flush pink. "Help me shower?"
"If you'd like." I keep my tone light, giving her an easy out. "No pressure. We can just wait out here if you prefer privacy."
She's quiet for a moment. "Can we shower without it getting... you know?" She gestures vaguely. "Sexy?"
My grin widens. I can't help myself. "I mean, it's going to be very sexy by default. Have you seen us?" I flex my bicep, just to make her laugh. "But we can resist coming onto you if that's what you mean."
Regina laughs. "Okay, yeah. That would actually be nice."
We help her up from the bed, and I notice the way she moves—careful, tender in places that make my wolf practically preen with pride.
We did that.
We claimed her so fucking thoroughly, she's still feeling it the morning after.
I scoop her into my arms so she doesn't have to walk and she lets out a startled yelp, her arms wrapping around my neck. "I'm not that sore."
"Princess treatment," I say pointedly. "Get used to it."
She rolls her eyes, but I feel her relax against me. "You're ridiculous. All of you."
"Guilty," Rowan agrees.
The bathroom attached to the master suite is almost as huge as Sean's ego. Rowan gets the shower started while I gently set Regina down on the plush bathmat.
"Water pressure's good today," Rowan reports, testing the temperature with his hand. "Should be warm enough in a minute."
Regina stands between us, suddenly looking smaller than usual. When I realize she's let her hair fall like a curtain over her scars, it hits me that maybe it's about the bright lighting. It's kind of intense in here, and while she let her glamour drop yesterday, it was considerably darker.
"You're staring," she says quietly.
"Sorry." I meet her eyes and smile. "You're just really fucking beautiful. It catches me off guard sometimes."
Her laugh is completely disbelieving. "You're hopeless."
"Also guilty," Rowan agrees, but he's looking at her with the same reverence I feel. "But we're right. You're stunning, Regina."
She doesn't respond to that, but the blush creeping into her ears now has nothing to do with the steam beginning to fill the room. She's not used to this, somehow. Not used to being wanted openly, honestly, without ulterior motives.
We're going to change that.
The shower is more than big enough for three, though it's still a cozy fit with two alpha males. Regina stands under the spray, letting the hot water cascade over her while Rowan and I flank her on either side.
True to my word, I'm keeping my hands innocent even if my mind isn't. Although I guess "innocent" is a relative term when you're naked with your mate.
"Here." Rowan offers her a bottle of shampoo. "May I?"
She hesitates, then nods. "Sure."
He pours some into his palm and begins working it through her long dark hair, his movements careful and thorough. Regina's eyes flutter closed, a small sound of contentment escaping her.
"That feels amazing."
"Told you," I say, reaching for the body wash. "Can I get your back?"
Another nod, and I start working the soap across her shoulders, my thumbs digging gently into the knots I find there. She's carrying so much tension, years of it stored in her muscles. I want to work every bit of it loose.
"You don't have to—" she starts.
"We want to," Rowan cuts her off, still massaging the shampoo through her hair. "Let us take care of you."