Chapter Thirteen
The sunlight filtered through the curtains, warm and golden, casting soft light across Willow’s skin.
She lay back on the bed, breath shallow, anticipation thrumming in her veins.
This was different. Everything that had come before—the fear, the pain, the confusion—had led to this moment.
She had her mates, truly and wholly and she would bind them to her in every way she could.
When Jacob and Liam began to undress her, their hands reverent and unhurried, they froze at the sight of her stomach.
Willow’s breath hitched. The tattoo that had haunted and protected her for weeks—the wolves etched into her skin—had returned to her.
It shimmered faintly, alive, eternal, a mark of their claiming.
Jacob reached out with a trembling hand and brushed his thumb across the ink, awe in his eyes.
“It’s us,” he quavered. “Not just as guardians, but forever. This is eternal.”
Liam bent low, pressing his lips to her belly, right over the tattoo. “The Goddess herself blessed you, love. You carry us not just in your heart, but in your very skin.”
Jacob leaned back on his heels, eyes shining with mischief and meaning. “And speaking of skin, I think it’s time we marked ours too. Ink for ink, love for love.”
Willow blinked, curiosity and delight sparking. “Oh? And what exactly are you thinking?”
Liam shared a glance with his brother and they both chuckled. “Something Celtic,” Liam said. “Knotwork that covers the shoulder and down the left side of our chests. And over the heart—your name.”
Jacob nodded firmly. “Yeah. I want your name written where it matters most. Where it beats.”
Emotion clogged Willow’s throat, but she found her voice. “Then add Libby too. She’s a part of us, of this story. She deserves to be carried forward.”
Both men nodded solemnly, love and fierce pride blazing in their eyes. Jacob reached to cup her cheek. “Done. Both names over our hearts. Yours in fire, hers in memory.”
Willow sighed. "I love the sound of that, we will talk to Ursula about that soon."
Liam kissed her again, softer this time, reverent. “Forever marked, love. Inside and out. Jacob and I are yours my love, our wolves yours to command.”
Tears pricked Willow’s eyes. “Then show me,” she whispered. “Show me your wolves.”
For a moment, neither man moved. Then, as though driven by the same heartbeat, they stepped back and stripped.
Then their bodies shimmered, bones shifting, muscles rippling.
The air grew charged, electric, as fur burst across their skin.
In the space of a breath, two magnificent wolves stood before her.
Both were larger than any natural wolf, black-furred beasts whose sheer size spoke of their power.
Yet even in their mirrored forms she could tell them apart—Liam’s massive frame carried eyes of vivid green, Jacob’s equally imposing body held eyes of brilliant blue, their gazes locking onto her with devotion and feral pride.
Willow gasped, wonder tightening her chest. They were stunning.
Alive, proud, fierce—and hers. She slid off the bed and dropped to her knees, reaching out trembling hands.
The first touch stole her breath: heat and strength beneath thick fur, muscle that shifted like living steel.
Liam pushed his great head against her palm and she buried her fingers in his fur, pressing her forehead to his muzzle.
Jacob butted his head against her shoulder, insistent and she wrapped her arms around both their necks, sinking into their warmth.
“You’re beautiful,” she whispered. “Both of you. My wolves.”
They made low sounds—half growls, half whines—pressing closer. Their bond was more than physical. It was spirit-deep. She felt their joy, their protectiveness, the love that burned hot and true.
But when she leaned back, her voice was steady. “I do love you, my wolves, but right now I need my human mates.”
The shift back was fluid, light bending, bones reshaping until her men stood before her once more—naked, magnificent, their bodies taut with emotion and hunger.
Willow swallowed hard, heat coursing through her.
She climbed back onto the bed, reclining against the pillows and looked at them with a smile that trembled but did not break.
“Claim me again,” she said. “In every way. Show me that nothing—not Marcus, not a curse, not even time—can tear us apart again.”
Liam’s eyes darkened with promise and Jacob’s lips curved into a feral grin.
They came to her together, their hands exploring, lips finding every inch of her skin.
The foreplay was slow and sensual, like an unraveling of barriers.
Liam kissed her deeply, his tongue stroking hers, while Jacob trailed his mouth down her neck, across her breasts, suckling until she arched off the bed.
Their hands mapped her body, teasing her thighs, stroking her belly, reminding her she was worshipped.
Jacob’s voice was rough when he spoke against her ear. “I want every part of you, Willow. I want to know how you taste, how you feel when you let me inside where no one else has been.”
Heat surged through her, dark and thrilling. “Then take me,” she whispered, voice trembling. “Both of you. All of me.”
Liam slid between her thighs, licking into her core until she was writhing, her cries echoing in the room.
Jacob knelt beside her, his fingers stroking her lips as she opened her mouth to take him in.
His groan was ragged, filthy words spilling from him as she sucked him down, her tongue swirling, her throat welcoming.
Liam rose above her, guiding himself into her slick heat, filling her with a slow, claiming thrust.
“Gods, you’re perfect,” Liam growled, his forehead pressed to hers as he began to move. “You’re ours, Willow. Always.”
She moaned around Jacob’s length, pleasure tearing through her, drowning her.
Jacob’s hand threaded into her hair, controlling her rhythm, his voice low and dirty.
“Fuck, Willow, that mouth. You make me want to lose it, watching you take me while my brother takes you. You were made for us. Look at you—our perfect little witch, our mate, on your knees and back for us both.”
Jacob reached for the small bottle of lube on the nightstand, slicking his fingers before teasing her tight entrance. He worked her slowly, deliberately, stretching her with patient care until she gasped his name and begged for more.
“That’s it, Willow,” he rasped against her ear, his voice filthy and reverent all at once. “Open up for me, let me in where no one else has ever been. You’re ours to claim in every way.”
When she pushed back against his hand, he replaced his fingers with the blunt head of his cock, easing forward inch by inch, stretching her deliciously. Liam anchored her from the front, thrusting deep into her slick heat, his lips crushed to hers, murmuring love and promises between groans.
The dual invasion overwhelmed her, sparks exploding across every nerve as both men moved in a rhythm that stole her breath.
Jacob growled behind her, dirty words spilling in her ear about how tight she was, how he could feel Liam moving through her.
Liam’s hand slid between them, finding her clit, stroking mercilessly until she was screaming both their names, the sound raw and beautiful.
“Fuck, Willow,” Jacob snarled, his thrusts growing ragged.
“Taking both of us like this—our perfect witch, our mate—you were made for this.”
"She was made for us!" Liam growled.
The vibration of her release tore through all three of them. Jacob shuddered, spilling deep inside her, his growl vibrating against her back, while Liam roared his climax, driving into her with one last powerful thrust as her body convulsed around them both.
But it didn’t end there. The day stretched ahead of them, golden with sunlight and promise.
They took their time, slowing down, teasing each other with lingering touches and soft laughter.
Jacob sprawled beside her, licking honey from her lips after feeding her fruit, while Liam massaged her feet, worshiping every part of her body as though making up for lost time.
She teased them in return, running her nails lightly down their stomachs loving the muscles there, enjoying the growls and curses that followed.
Again and again, they came together—sometimes slow and tender, sometimes wild and urgent, pushing each other higher until the edges of pleasure blurred into something transcendent. Willow reveled in it, her heart so full it ached, her soul finally at peace.
At one point, she lay stretched across them both, her cheek against Jacob’s chest, Liam’s hand stroking her hip. “You know what this means?” she murmured. “We’ve got forever. And forever might still not be enough.”
Jacob kissed the top of her head, his voice soft but unyielding. “Forever and beyond that. Nothing takes us from you again.”
By late afternoon, the three of them were tucked beneath a blanket, the fading sun painting the room in amber. Willow traced the tattoo on her stomach, marveling at how it seemed to glow faintly in the light.
“It’s still here,” she whispered. “You’re still here.”
Jacob kissed her temple. “We’re not going anywhere, love.”
Liam nodded, brushing her hair back. “The curse may have bound us once, but it can’t anymore. We claimed you in truth, in blood and nothing can undo that.”
They spoke quietly, voices threaded with wonder and exhaustion.
About Saffie’s sacrifice, the weight she had carried for centuries.
About Ursula, searching for her own mate.
About the fourth, the missing piece they still needed to find.
Willow’s heart ached with both fear and hope, but she held her men tighter, refusing to let doubt take root.
“We’ll face whatever comes,” she said softly. “Together.”
Jacob smiled against her hair. “Damn right. Let Marcus rot in hell. We’ve got better things to do, like figuring out how to keep up with our witch.”
Willow laughed through the lump in her throat, snuggling closer. “Then you’d better get some rest. Because tomorrow, we start again.”
The night fell, but for once, there was no fear of separation. Only warmth, love, and the promise of forever. And as the three of them sank back into each other, the world outside could wait.