33
GOLDIE
Days pass. A blood moon illuminates the sky, making Evan, Robert, and Hunter restless. Historically, wolves are more active when the moon is full and are driven to vengeance when it’s bloody.
The peace they’ve negotiated is untested, and despite their initial relief and their attempts to conceal their watchfulness, I’ve come to know their tells.
The war between wolves and bears has waged for longer than the records housed in the family library. I’m hopeful that the peace will hold for just as long but what do I know?
And while they reluctantly anticipate danger, we fall into a routine that's comfortable and content: breakfasts lit up by the fall sun, and afternoons spent reading on the ancient sofas in a library that looks like it should house secret doors and passages to another dimension.
We talk and laugh, and little by little, my concerns melt away. Little by little, my heart swells with affection for these men, who are so alike yet so crazily different.
Hunter takes time to tell me about the stories from their past. Curled up with him on the sofa, my head pressed against his chest where the beat of his heart is audible, I ask him about his childhood, trying to understand them better.
“Did you go to school?”
He wraps one of my curls around his finger, staring at it intensely. “Clan school.”
“So you didn’t mix with humans?”
“No, and it was a mistake.”
“You think so?”
“I think it makes it harder to live in the world when you do everything you can to exist on the fringes. I understand our parents wanted to keep us safe, but there’s danger in working to protect your children too much. Making children fearful of others is problematic.”
“It is,” I say. “Bear thing aside, there are too many divisions in this word, too many categories for people to slot themselves into instead of searching for what unifies us.”
“I want my cubs to love what makes them different, but not fear those who aren’t like them.”
“Even wolves?”
He nods solemnly. “Even wolves.”
I twist to stare up at the complex, wise man who’s testing the limits of his patience just being this close to me.
“You’re a wise man, Hunter.”
“And you’re a wise woman.” His complement is welcome, pushing aside the nagging doubts I had that he’s blinded by destiny and failing to see the real me. He kisses me, and it’s beautiful. A gentle molding of his lips to mine, a quickening of both our breaths, a rush of sensation through me that settles between my legs. I squeeze my thighs together as Hunter pulls back. He inhales deeply through his nose, and I remember what Robert said about their sense of smell.
Is he scenting my arousal? Does he know how he makes me feel?
I flush hot and he touches my cheek as a smile dances at the corners of his mouth. “You can’t hide from me,” he whispers. “I know you, Goldilocks. I know what you want, what you need, and I want to give you everything if you’ll let me.”
“I know,” I tell him, closer than I’ve ever been to giving in. “I know.”
--
Evan teaches me to cook delicious goulash—he was lying about ramen being his only culinary delight!
“Who taught you this recipe?” I ask as he pours the beef stock over the seasoned meat and vegetables and stirs. “My mom, and she learned from her mom.”
“So it’s a family tradition.”
“For sure. It’s the spices and the slow cooking that make all the difference.”
I stand over the pan, inhaling the rich aroma. My stomach growls with hunger and Evan wraps his arms around my middle from behind, kissing my neck.
“This is going to take two hours. I don’t think you can wait then!”
“Maybe I could eat some bread and butter,” I say, eyeing the freshly made loaf that rests on the counter. As well as delicious stews, Evan is also a skilled baker. He checks so many boxes.
“You can have anything you want.” His hand smooths over my belly and a little higher until it rests beneath my breasts. It feels like an eon since he was inside me, and at moments like this, I forget why I’m not dragging him up to one of the gazillion bedrooms upstairs.
“Evan,” I warn, clamping my thighs around my aching pussy.
“You smell better than goulash,” he says, inhaling against my neck as his thumb brushes over my nipple.
He’s braver than either of his brothers, but he doesn’t ever go further than a tease, offering me nuggets of temptation that burn within me for hours after.
Robert is quiet but attentive, always the more observant and pensive of the brothers. He escorts me to my bedroom at night and lingers for conversation before saying goodnight. I can’t help watching him as he walks away, remembering the night we were together and how it felt to be wrapped in his arms.
They don’t ask me how I’m feeling, and they don’t pressure me to make this anything more than it is, and I become restless.
At night, I lie beneath my feather-down quilt and recall the room downstairs. I remember the fantasies that I used to have and exactly how the sex with Robert and Evan felt. It’s all I can do to keep my hands out of my panties. That would be like a cheap imitation of what it’s possible to feel, and I don’t want that. Not anymore.
Days pass, and the wolves don’t appear. The men who’ve become my sun and my moon relax a little more with every wolf-free day.
Robert and Hunter even decide to buy lumber from the Fenrir brothers and fix up the outbuilding until it’s ready for the arrival of my kinky stock. When it’s done, I stand surrounded by the business they’ve helped me start feeling more blessed than I ever have before, and with every sunrise and sunset, I fall a little deeper in love.
My mind becomes tangled with Hunter’s smile, Evan’s dimples, and Robert’s furrowed brow. Their hands and arms and shoulders blur. They become one man in my mind—one beautiful and complex man with three minds and three hearts.
And I’m filled with questions. Do they want to claim me all at once? Or will we lie together separately? When the time comes, how will they choose who'll impregnate me?
None of this matters in my decision as to whether I’m going to stay.
I already know.
I just don’t know how to tell them.