Chapter Eight
Alex walked down the steps, heading to the kitchen, feeling like he’d been twisted into a pretzel for hours. Every part of his body ached. His mate had kept one hand clamped around Alex’s waist like retractable seatbelts. There in theory for safety, in practice mostly for preventing escape.
There’d been a second round, a third, and, somewhere in there, either Alex fainted or blacked out from too many orgasms.
Might as well have been the same thing.
Somewhere around dusk, Wade finally released his grip. Alex slithered out of bed, knees threatening insurrection, body abused in the best possible way.
Every inch of skin tingled. Every step felt like it should come with a warning. Fragile, contents under pressure. He’d never felt so alive.
By some small miracle, three showers later, the bruises had started to fade. The fucking collar, however, was going nowhere.
His reflection in the hallway mirror said it all. Hair sticking up in three directions, lips bruised, cheeks bright and dewy like he’d overdosed on highlighter.
Total post-coital glow.
Maybe it was visible from satellites.
NASA, you’re welcome.
After one last teeth cleaning and a fresh shirt, he tiptoed downstairs, not wanting to know if “walk of shame” counted if it was technically your new home. Every joint ached. So did Alex’s jaw, from too much grinning…and other fun, yet challenging things.
Wade’s shirt draped his frame like he was in a cult for awkward skinny dudes.
Alex kept waiting for the regret to arrive, but all he felt was a dangerous, dizzying species of hope.
The kitchen was absolutely alive with voices, the overlapping hum of people who’d lived together long enough to say anything. The hallway vibrated with warmth and the scents of apple, cinnamon, and whatever else the mates had managed to cram into the oven.
Squaring his shoulders, Alex shuffled into the kitchen, bracing for impact.
Four sets of eyes snapped to him at once.
Sasha was perched on one of the counters, legs crossed like he was prepping for a magazine shoot. The gorgeous redhead could totally pull it off.
Preston and Jalen were at the island, elbow to elbow, faces shaded pink by the oven light.
Newt hovered above the fridge in low-energy mode, wings flicking while he ate dry cereal by the handful.
And all four of them stared.
Not silence, exactly. More like a split-second of collective intake, the kind you heard at football games right before the big play.
Then Preston broke the tension, eyebrows shooting up so fast they were in danger of detaching. “A certain somebody got claimed.”
The ensuing cacophony of hoots, whistles, and catcalls could have shattered glass.
Sasha started it, letting out a disbelieving whistle that would’ve impressed a construction crew.
Jalen slammed a fist on the counter and pointed directly at Alex’s neck. “Look at that bruise! Dude, you got owned.”
Newt chucked a fistful of cereal at him like it was confetti.
Within seconds, the entire kitchen was shaking with laughter.
“Okay, okay, herd mentality, I get it,” Alex grumbled, but he couldn’t suppress the flush blooming in his cheeks. “Didn’t realize you guys formed a welcome committee for newly de-virginized mates.”
That earned another round of howls. Too late, he realized what he’d said. “Not that I was a…um… Never mind.”
He wasn’t a virgin, but with the way Wade had “owned” him, Alex had learned things he didn’t know people could do during sex. He’d even discovered he could turn into a bendy straw.
Not a brag he wanted to share.
“Aw, honey,” Sasha cooed, hopping down from the counter to squeeze his arm. “Don’t be embarrassed. You look amazing. Seriously, you’re straight-up glowing. Like, I need sunglasses.”
Preston waggled his eyebrows. “You need water? Or Gatorade? Or a really soft cushion?”
“I’m gonna pass,” Alex replied, navigating the minefield of snack wrappers and dirty spoons to claim a seat at the island. “And you can all keep your comments to yourselves. Nothing to see here.”
“Except a love bite the size of New Mexico,” Jalen deadpanned. “Was Wade trying to suck your entire neck off?”
“Can we get a photo?” Newt asked, diving closer with his phone out. “For the pack scrapbook.”
The pack had a scrapbook? Alex wasn’t interested. Not that he was embarrassed about the hickey. His collar would forever be immortalized if he took one right now.
Alex ducked, swatting at the fae, but the smile on his face refused to budge. This was how it was supposed to feel. Like you’d crashed a family reunion and nobody cared you weren’t technically invited.
It felt good to be a part of something, even if that something was a group of Nosy Nellies.
Sasha plopped a mug of coffee in front of him, followed by a plate stacked with brownies. “Eat. You need to keep your energy up, now that you’re,” he paused, considering, “in high demand.”
Wow. So this was their post-sex therapy. Baked goods, caffeine, and full-contact teasing.
It worked.
Alex took a brownie and crammed it into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully while the other mates eased back into the usual kitchen banter.
Preston and Jalen traded barbs about the correct way to use cinnamon, “with restraint” vs. “like a war crime.” Newt perched on the island again, picking at melon cubes with a pair of chopsticks.
They made room for Alex, without question, without preface. He was just another guy with a weird past and a mate who cared about him.
Maybe, if the world kept spinning the same way for five more minutes, Alex could actually get used to this.
“Details,” Preston pressed, nudging Alex’s arm. “Come on. Was it romantic? Were there candles? Did Wade serenade you?”
All four pairs of eyes zeroed in.
Alex burst out laughing, imagining Wade, the guy who tried to cripple him all day, taking the time to light a candle. With the acrobatics they’d preformed, they were more likely to burn down the house with that candle.
“Like I’m gonna give you ammunition for the next six months?” Alex nibbled on the corner of his brownie, feeling a tiny bit overwhelmed. He’d gone from having no friends to having four men who had no qualms about invading…everything.
“Rude,” Sasha pouted. “Just so you know, we live for these stories.”
“Yeah, well, I’m on a strict verbal blackout. Per Wade’s instructions. National security. Need-to-know basis. All of that.”
Preston snorted. “Sounds like you got bent over more than the truth.”
Newt choked on a grape and had to thump his own chest to recover. “I want twelve details, minimum. Skip the foreplay and start with the wild stuff.”
A tomato bounced off Newt’s shoulder, tossed by Jalen with impressive accuracy. “Give the guy a minute to recover, will you?”
Alex leaned in, like he was about to share state secrets. “I’ll give you one detail.”
The mates leaned in just a little farther, eyes wide, the kitchen so quiet you could’ve heard a mouse fart.
“Hot showers dry your skin,” Alex whispered conspiratorially.
Jalen groaned.
Preston rolled his eyes.
Sasha smirked.
Newt pouted.
Alex ignored their reactions, focusing on the sugar high and the fact that, for the first time in…well, ever, he didn’t feel like prey at a predator convention. Nobody here wanted anything from him except his company and maybe another helping of spilled tea that actually contained tea.
I actually have friends now. How cool is that?
The lights cut out. No warning, no flicker. Just instant, absolute darkness.
At first, he thought it was just a blown fuse. The house was humungous, and blown fuses would be a common occurrence. Not that Alex would know anything about mansions.
The kitchen was plunged into ink, voices stuttering to a stop mid-laugh. Nothing but the faint hum of panic and the sound of somebody’s fork clattering to the floor could be heard.
Jalen cursed under his breath. Maybe it was Sasha. Someone’s elbow jabbed Alex hard in the ribs.
“Wasn’t me,” muttered Newt. “I didn’t perform any magic!” His voice cracked. “Guys?”
Somewhere to Alex’s left, Preston let out a nervous laugh. “Okay, funny. Who’s screwing around with the lights?”
No one answered.
A weird, stomach-dropping sensation seized Alex.
Like gravity had packed up and left the building.
His head swam. There was nothing under his feet, and for a second, he had time to wonder if this was some human prank or if Newt had tried to really teleport them to Alaska because Alex wouldn’t give those twelve details.
He was falling. Not a metaphor. Actually falling. Alex screamed as he reached out, only to grab nothing but air. He couldn’t even see his flailing arms.
Alex’s stomach lurched, his heart tried to escape through his feet, and bile raced up his throat.
Then he slammed into something hard, knocking the wind out of his lungs. Rolling to his hands and knees, he vomited.
That wasn’t kitchen tile under his hands. Grass, the springy blades poking his palms.
Once Alex could semi-breathe again, he looked at the familiar surroundings. Oh god, no. He knew exactly where he was. Another quick glance around confirmed it.
Alex whipped his head around, heart racing when he saw all four mates were there too.
They’d landed in a heap beside him.
Preston was sprawled face-first across the grassy mound, swearing under his breath.
Jalen blinked up at the sky like he’d been teleported to a rave.
Newt hovered a few feet above the ground, wings flapping in wild panic, his latte-colored skin a bit green.
No sign of the kitchen, the pack house, or the brownies.
“Um…” Sasha’s voice piped up, shaky and disbelieving. “Did someone just kidnap us?”
The world around them looked like a nighttime cityscape, with tall apartment buildings and normal-looking businesses. The air smelled like…chicken?
No cars. No engines. Just foot traffic and people, who appeared human, but Alex knew better. Serenity City was comprised of all sorts of creatures from vampires to centaur shifters.
To his right, men were playing basketball on a large court, sweatbands on their wrists and heads, sneakers on their feet, playing a normal game of a normal sport.
Preston sat up and scanned the cityscape, eyes wide. “Holy shit. We’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto.”
“Which one of us is Toto, Dorothy?” Sasha asked, glancing around at the shitstorm they’d been dumped into.
“Why am I suddenly starving?” Jalen pressed a hand against his stomach.
“King Wings,” Alex answered automatically, his mind screaming to get up and get moving. To take the mates somewhere safe. Newt was the most vulnerable. If a vampire caught the guy’s scent, they would drain the fae dry.
Alex staggered to his feet and immediately wrenched a muscle in his thigh. Fuck.
The others gawked at the view, chattering with a little excitement and a whole lot of confusion.
Sasha spun in a circle, mouth open. “This is nuts. Where are the cars? Or motorcycles? Why is everyone walking?”
“Better question,” Alex murmured. “Why are we here?”
Preston tried to brush off his shirt, only making the situation worse. “You think it’s, like, a dream? Or maybe Newt glitched and sent us to hell? No offense, buddy. It happens.”
“This is not a dream or Newt glitching.” Alex started to tremble. “Not Alaska, either. Gentlemen, welcome to the demon realm.”
Nobody laughed. Jalen actually paled. Even Newt dropped to the ground, wings disappearing into his back.
Sasha shook his head in disbelief. “No way. Shouldn’t there be lava pits or Mount Doom?”
“Mount Doom is on the Saturnian moon Titan,” Jalen said. “It’s a volcano, so you were close, Preston.”
“Trust me. This is so much worse.” Alex tried to swallow, but his mouth was bone-dry.
He could already feel eyes on them, and not friendly ones.
Soon, word would get out that the Twink Tour for Predators had arrived.
When that happened, not even Jalen’s skinny jeans would help him run fast enough to escape the creatures that would come after them.
“Define worse.” Newt poked the grass with a stick, brows furrowed. Alex wasn’t sure if something in the grass fascinated him or if he was failing to pick up on the ominous vibes all around them.
Alex pointed to his left, jabbing his finger repeatedly.
“Worse means that right down the street are the literal Gates of Hell.” He pointed to his right.
“Cross into Remtin and you’ll need a lifetime of therapy, if you survive.
” Then he gestured toward the grass, because he didn’t want to attract any attention.
He still felt those eyes on them. “The people you see walking are either a shifter, vampire, soul-sucking demon, or a Cheesecake Factory extended menu of other creatures that want us served à la mode. That worse enough for everyone?”
By the time he was finished talking, Alex was lightweight hyperventilating.
“Anyone have their phone on them?” Sasha asked. “Would cell phones even work here?”
“Yes,” Alex replied. “But mine is still in my bedroom.” Already he was thinking of Wade’s room as his own. Hopefully he would see it again.
And Wade. Alex’s gut twisted at the thought of never seeing his wolf again. To feel his mate cradling him in his arms. Wade had no idea where the mates were, so the chances of being rescued were between a snowball’s chance in Hell and Drew coming back to life to clear Alex’s name.
The men patted their pockets, but no one produced a phone.
“What do we do?” Sasha whispered, pushing his glasses back up his nose. “I don’t even know how we got here.”
“Shadows.” Newt looked at Alex, tears brimming in his eyes. “I’ve traveled through them before, when Vex kidnapped me and Vaughn. But something tells me the pack isn’t going to break any doors down to rescue us when we don’t even know where the doors are.”
“We’re in another realm?” Jalen repeatedly snapped the rubber band on his wrist, refusing to look at any of them. “But it looks so…normal. How can we be in a monster realm?”
Preston had said that Jalen used to do pills. Was he relapsing? Was that the right word? Alex knew very little about drugs, but he would research them if that meant helping one of the mates.
Quietly, Preston moved to Jalen, then rubbed his back as he talked softly to him.
Even though Alex could hear the conversation because of his heightened senses, he forced himself not to listen.
“What do we do?” Sasha asked, though he was glancing at Preston and Jalen.
“Best plan?” Alex cleared his throat. “We keep moving. Do not stop. Don’t talk to anything unless I say so. Newt, you’re the most vulnerable because of your fae blood.”
Alex had never pulled off “pack leader” before, but being in Serenity City without protection was suicidal, and he was desperate to keep the others safe. To get them home to their mates in one piece. To get himself back to Wade.
The demon realm looked harmless, almost pleasant. But that false sense of “serenity” was deceptive as hell. The creeping wrongness, the kind that made your skin itch because it was too normal, too quiet… That was the real horror.
What worried Alex the most—aside from Newt and Jalen—was the reason they were in the realm to begin with. Only a demon could’ve transported them here.
And Alex could think of only one who had it out for him.
Valcore.
There was zero doubt in Alex’s mind who’d hijacked them.
“What about that place?” Preston pointed across the street at a brick building, Jake’s Java was displayed over the door in blue neon. Alex had been there before. It had been nice, safe. Really good coffee too.
“Move quickly,” Alex said. “Stay together. Don’t stray for any reason.”
Sasha wrinkled his nose as they crossed the pristine street. “Shouldn’t there be cars? Traffic? Something? Why are there paved streets if no one rides on them? What’s the purpose of them?”
“I so want some of that chicken.” Jalen licked his lips, so engrossed in the restaurant down the street that he nearly tripped over his own feet.
“I just wanna go home,” Newt whimpered, staying in the middle of the group so they could hide him better. He was the shortest mate, after all, and would be the first to be targeted if shit went sideways.
Unfortunately, nothing would hide the smell of his blood, but hopefully the aroma of chicken diluted the scent instead of just torturing Jalen.
Finding a demon warrior was their only ticket out of this nightmare realm.
If Alex only knew how to summon one.