Sorin
I stood and carefully eyed each warrior of my pack. Loyal, strong, family. The emergency meeting had been called for this afternoon.
“Many of you may know that I have found my Queen. Aliana, of the Silvermere pack,” I said, watching the shock, happiness and amusement move through my closest circle.
“She hasn’t taken too kindly to my—past dalliances.”
Murmuring broke out, and they all looked at one another.
Remember that time you had four women in one sitting? Rev asked.
I glared at him as he leaned against the pillar. Too far away for me to claw his face off.
I didn’t say it out loud, he grumbled.
“You will relay the message to the rest of the pack: no one mentions sensitive topics from the past that may upset my Luna.”
Talon raised his hand. “What about that time you—”
I grabbed the glass off my desk and threw it at him.
He raised his arm. It bounced off and shattered across the marble tiles.
“This is no laughing matter,” I growled as Talon brushed stray shards of glass from his clothing. “The future of our pack hinges on Aliana.”
The crowd grew sombre, and I moved on to the security details for the mating ceremony.
Talon raised his hand again.
“What?” I snapped.
“Would you like me to escort her family to the ceremony? I felt a familial bond with them,” he mused, rubbing his jaw.
“Was that before or after you bit his foot off?” Jax mumbled, then quietly chuckled.
“He’s got a point. The father isn’t as handy as he used to be,” Rev added.
“I will let you know whether they are to be invited,” I said, already wondering what she would decide.
As for shielding her from my past—if she looked at it from a logical point of view, all that experience would now benefit her.
DO NOT SAY THAT TO OUR MATE, Malakh roared, so loudly that I winced.
He was so uptight these days.
? ? ?
I waited like a thief in the night before creeping into my own bedroom. Ember was far too biddable to be sent back to serve Aliana her meals. Which meant I brought her lunch and dinner, and fed her myself.
She ate well, but I got the impression she didn’t enjoy being locked in. Without the collar, she could breach the compound’s perimeter. That was not a chance I was willing to take.
No. I needed to wait until the mating ceremony was complete. Until we were bound, so neither of us could refute our lifetime commitment to one another.
Plus I liked her being surrounded by my scent.
I was a military tactician. My members came to me with all kinds of social and financial problems at our bi-weekly surgeries. I protected the Bloodborne pack and others with an iron fist.
Yet I couldn’t persuade my Luna Queen, chosen by the Moon Goddess, to go through with our mating ceremony.
I slipped out of my clothes—all of them—and snuck into my own bed. Our mate clung to the far edge. When I moved closer, I came up against a row of pillows blocking my path.
My life had become so jaded that I’d taken her innocence for granted. It didn’t stop me from removing the pillows. I slipped my hand beneath her shirt and sighed when my palm met soft, heated flesh. Silky. Smooth. I went a little higher.
We’re more than blessed, Malakh murmured.
I settled behind our mate, breathing her in until my cock rose between us. An involuntary response—but it would make our mating all the sweeter. I’d never had to hold back before. Aliana and Zira were unique in their past experiences.
I closed my eyes, grateful to be holding them in my arms. She couldn’t reject us. Neither Malakh nor I would survive the renunciation.
She can’t if her belly is full. She will need us, Malakh whispered. We’ll care for them all.
? ? ?
I woke to a shifting weight and the faint, panicked whisper of fabric against the sheets. I didn’t move. I kept my breathing slow and even, and let my eyes slit open a crack.
Her path of escape was blocked.
Aliana had made it halfway off the bed. One leg swung over the edge, her foot searching blindly for the floor. The other was still tangled in the sheets, and she was easing it free without jostling the mattress.
Like a fucking cat trying to escape a bath.
I let her get her foot planted on the floor. Let her ease her weight forward. She was good. Quiet. She had potential as a spy.
But she’d forgotten about the hand still resting on her stomach.
She went to slide the rest of the way off, and I curled my fingers, gently hooking the fabric of her shirt.
She froze. Mid-air. One foot on the floor, one knee on the bed, suspended like a deer in headlights.
I waited a beat. Let her sweat.
Then I drawled, low and rough from sleep, “And where do you think you’re going?”
She made a sound—something between a squeak and a guttural curse.
“Bathroom.”
“I’ll join you,” I said, lazily hauling her back.
“You are such a pervert,” she said, exasperated and annoyed enough to try to elbow my beautiful face.
“Just one kiss,” I murmured close to her ear. “Anywhere you want.”
She glanced back.
“Or I could just pee on your bed.”
“Can you sit on me while you do it?”
Her smirk vanished.
I kissed her cheek and let her go.
She pounced off the bed and darted to the bathroom. The door slammed, but I never stopped smiling. Or staring at the door.
This was how I wanted to wake up every morning.