50. Tálstrom
I seize control as Simon climaxes, forcing my fangs through his gums. He’s made things a little easier by constantly nuzzling at Isobel’s throat, and I use it to my advantage. I lunge forward, mouth open wide and clamp our jaws down over Isobel’s throat. Her skin parts like butter under my fangs, and her blood pours across our tongue in a sweet flood as another climax floods across Simon’s cock.
I drink her down in several gulps, feeling each pull deep inside Simon’s chest. It’s impossible to keep our eyes open, not when we’re being bombarded with so much sensation. Everything feels heightened, and the moment darkness descends I understand why.
While Simon and I have formed several blood bonds on top of our remaining familial bonds, none of them look like this.
A gilded crimson aurora, rich and deep like the color of freshly spilled blood over glittering gold, surrounds the avatars of our shared souls. Strands of gilt shimmer from Simon, while streams of scarlet waft from me, blending the moment they touch. Living threads dance through the air, searching for their new home.
It doesn’t take long before they anchor, and it changes everything.
Emotions slam into me, making me stumble and knocking Simon to his knees.
Our hearts, once broken and bleeding, finally start to mend, the open wounds closing over without scab or scar. Our souls, those disparate, shattered echoes of the shifter we once were, cleave to each other, still separate, but no longer solitary foes. Discord no longer divides us, and while we’ll never be one, there’s a new acceptance bridging the canyon of Simon’s and my past.
Shapes emerge from the edges of our mind, tethering us all together with cords of ruby and jade edged with gold. Isobel shines with ethereal light, absorbing the golden light into her skin, while the green glows in her eyes and the red sparks through her hair. Pliant emerald threads, as thin as spider-silk but with the strength of titanium, emerge from her and weave their way back to both Simon and me, while strands of carmine extend out to Quin and the shifting form of his tiger.
The beast is enormous, and not one that would normally belong to a Mundane shifter. Something has happened to them, some form of torture or experiment implemented before he was able to make it back to us. It is something we’ll need to address later, but not now.
No. Now is for bonding.
And fucking.
Definitelyfucking.