17. Sloane
SEVENTEEN
SLOANE
The mile walk back to Hale Lodge seemed to stretch endlessly before them, humming with an energy so thick Sloane could practically taste it on her tongue.
Her bare feet found their rhythm on the forest path as she moved between Ronan and Kozue, but the silence wasn't uncomfortable—it was charged, electric, full of unspoken promises that made her heart flutter with every step.
This is it, she thought, her heart thundering in her chest. This is what I've been running toward my whole life without knowing it.
The training session had stripped away every last wall she'd built around herself.
Moving with their wolf forms in perfect synchronization, trusting them completely as they sparred with her, feeling the mate bond sing with recognition—it had shattered every doubt she'd been carrying since the moment she'd arrived at Hale Lodge.
She belonged here. They belonged to her, and she belonged to them. The three of them were meant to fight side by side, meant to be one unstoppable force against whatever the world threw at them.
I'm not losing this, she decided, her jaw setting with fierce determination. Not when I've finally found my true home.
The lodge came into view through the trees, its warm lights glowing like a beacon in the approaching dusk.
Two massive figures flanked the front entrance—Jarvis and Bruno, already positioned against the threat of Darius Kade.
The sight should have made her nervous, but instead it filled her with a fierce protectiveness.
This place, these people, this pack—they were hers now, and she'd fight to the death to keep them safe.
They crossed the threshold into the lodge's welcoming warmth, and Sloane felt the familiar sensation of coming home wash over her. The scent of cedar and pine wrapped around her like an embrace, mixed with something uniquely wild—a sense of belonging that went bone-deep.
"Ronan, can we finish our conversation upstairs in your suite?" she asked, her voice steadier than she felt.
Ronan's blue eyes darkened as he nodded. "Of course."
He led them through the lobby and up the stairs, past the second floor to his and Kozue's private domain on the third level. Sloane's awareness heightened with every step, her body humming with nervous energy and desire and the absolute certainty that she was about to change her life forever.
Ronan opened his suite door and stepped aside, allowing her and Kozue to enter first. The space was masculine and inviting—rich leather furniture arranged around a stone fireplace, tall windows overlooking the forest, everything designed for comfort rather than show.
It felt like him: solid, dependable, and quietly powerful.
The click of the door closing behind them seemed to echo through the room.
Sloane turned to face both men, her pulse racing as she took in their expressions.
Ronan stood with his hands at his sides, every line of his body radiating controlled intensity.
Kozue's green eyes never left her face, his usual easy smile replaced by something far more serious.
"When I said I know what I want," she began, her voice gaining strength with each word, "I meant I want this place. I want you two. I want this triad mate bond. I want this pack. I want all of it."
Both men went completely still, their eyes darkening with a hunger so profound it stole her breath. The air between them seemed to shimmer with possibility and promise and something that felt like destiny finally clicking into place.
Ronan stepped forward slightly. "Are you sure?
Because once we complete this triad mate bond, it's forever and cannot be undone.
You'll be bound to both Kozue and me for eternity.
You'll be able to feel our emotions through the bond like they're your own, and you'll be able to communicate telepathically with both of us. "
Sloane absorbed his words, letting them settle in her chest. Instead of fear, she felt only rightness—a bone-deep certainty that this was exactly what she'd been searching for her entire life without knowing it.
"I'm not afraid of any of that," she said firmly. "I'm more afraid of losing this special thing I've found, of losing this place that makes me feel safe and whole, of losing you two who make me feel more alive and cherished and loved than I've ever felt."
Kozue stepped forward and took her left hand while Ronan moved to claim her right. The moment their skin touched, that familiar jolt of electricity shot through her—pure recognition, pure rightness, pure home.
"I know danger is headed our way," she continued, her voice steady despite the emotions threatening to overwhelm her. "But I know I can't keep denying myself what I want because I don't believe I deserve it."
She looked directly into Ronan's blue eyes, then turned to meet Kozue's green gaze. "Ronan, I choose you. Kozue, I choose you. And I choose this triad mate bond. So whatever needs to happen to make it official, I want it now before it's too late."
Ronan's thumb traced across her knuckles, his touch gentle despite the intensity blazing in his eyes. "Well, to complete the triad mate bond, Kozue and I will have to claim you at the same time, marking you at the exact same time. After that, all three of us will be bound together forever."
Heat flooded her body at his words, pooling low in her belly and spreading outward until she felt like she might combust from want alone. The clinical way he'd explained it only made it more real, more immediate.
"Are you ready for that?" Kozue asked softly, his voice thick with barely controlled need.
Sloane looked up at both of them—these two powerful, protective, incredible men who'd given her safety and purpose and love beyond anything she'd ever imagined—and felt the last of her walls crumble completely.
"I'm ready."
They moved together with reverent slowness, as if she were something precious that might break if handled too roughly.
Kozue's hands found the hem of her sports bra, his fingers skimming across her ribs as he lifted it over her head.
At the same time, Ronan knelt to hook his thumbs into the waistband of her leggings, drawing them down her legs along with her panties until she stood completely bare before them.
The way they looked at her—like she was everything they'd ever wanted, like she was perfect, like she was theirs—made her feel more beautiful and desired than she'd ever felt in her life.
Then they guided her toward Ronan's massive four-poster bed, their movements coordinated and gentle. Sloane's heart pounded in her chest as she lay back against the soft sheets, watching as both men stripped off their own clothes with efficient movements.
This was it, she thought, her pulse racing with anticipation and desire and certainty.
The mattress soon dipped beside her as Ronan lowered his powerful frame, his bare skin radiating a warmth that called to her on a primal level. Across from him, Kozue mirrored the movement, his green eyes holding her gaze with a burning intensity that made her gasp.
This is really happening.
But this wasn't a mistake, or an impulse, or a dangerous fantasy.
It was the culmination of a lifetime of searching.
Every foster home that hadn't stuck, every job that hadn't lasted, every fight that had only been about survival—they had all been leading her here, to this bed, to these two men, to this moment.
To her future.
Ronan's mouth claimed hers with a passion that felt like a dam breaking.
His kiss wasn't gentle or tentative; it was a declaration, fierce and possessive, tasting of cedar and wildness and a promise of forever.
At the same moment, Kozue's weight settled over her lower body, his lips finding the sensitive curve of her neck before trailing lower.
When his mouth finally closed over one hardened nipple, the dual sensation was so overwhelming her back arched clear off the bed, and a cry of pure pleasure tore from her throat, muffled by Ronan's consuming kiss.
Then her world narrowed to points of exquisite sensation: the slick, demanding heat of Ronan's tongue tangling with hers, and the sweet, sucking pull of Kozue's mouth on her breasts.
Her body became a live wire, every nerve ending screaming with a rightness that defied all logic.
She kissed Ronan back with equal ferocity, her fingers digging into the hard muscles of his shoulders.
Just as she was melting into the dizzying rhythm, they switched.
Ronan broke the kiss, his blue eyes dark and stormy as he moved to replace Kozue at her breasts.
His approach was different—less teasing, more commanding.
His tongue swirled with possessive intent, his teeth grazing her sensitive flesh with a delicious edge of danger that made her moan.
Meanwhile, Kozue's mouth began a slow, worshipful journey down the plane of her stomach, his lips and tongue tracing every scar, every curve, as if memorizing a sacred map.
"So perfect," Kozue murmured against her skin, the vibration shooting straight to her core.
She loved their differences. Ronan's fierce claiming, Kozue's reverent exploration—they weren't competing; they were complementing. They were giving her an experience so complete, so utterly satisfying, she wondered how she'd ever thought she could be whole with just one man.
This was what she'd been missing. This was what she'd always needed.
Then Kozue's head dipped between her thighs, and his tongue found her most sensitive flesh.
But he didn't tease there. He licked with firm, knowing pressure, finding a rhythm that had her hips bucking off the bed.
Ronan's mouth on her breast became more insistent, matching that rhythm.
The dual assault was too much, too perfect, and pleasure coiled tight in her belly, a spring wound to its breaking point.
I'm going to come too fast.