Chapter 36
Chapter Thirty-Six
Alyssa
We waited until nightfall. Not for any magical reason.
We were making this up as we went along, but I doubted we’d need moonlight or ritual or any of the ceremonial trappings that the old courts would have insisted on.
It felt more right that it just needed us, together, with enough privacy that the rest of the camp wouldn’t feel the shockwave of five courts’ worth of magic merging through one woman’s body.
The chamber was lit by soft firelight bouncing off the stone walls. Someone had brought furs and blankets, layering them over the bed, and the air smelled of the herbs that grew in the cracks between the floor tiles. Warm. Earthy. Alive.
Five men. One woman. A room that suddenly felt much smaller than it was.
The nervousness surprised me. I’d been with each of them individually.
I’d even been with more than one of them before.
I’d loved each of them separately, learned the particular geography of each body, discovered where they were sensitive and how they sounded when they lost control.
But all of them at once was an intensity I’d never experienced.
“Stop thinking so hard.” Ryder’s voice, warm with amusement. He was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and that crooked smile that meant he could see right through me. “You’ve got your battle-planning face on. This isn’t a military operation.”
“It’s a little bit of a military operation,” Tank said mildly from where he sat on the edge of the bed, and the unexpected joke startled a laugh out of me that broke the tension like a stone through glass.
“You’re all impossible,” I told them.
“And yet here we are,” Ryder said, pushing off the wall and crossing the room to me. His hands found my waist, light and sure. “Impossibly yours.”
He kissed me before I could respond. Slow, like he always kissed, with a sweetness that belied the storm he carried inside.
His mouth was warm and tasted like the tea he’d been drinking.
When his tongue touched mine I felt the Autumn bond spark to life between us.
Not the full surge. A flicker. A promise of what was to come.
When he pulled back, Maddox was there. His hands replaced Ryder’s on my waist and he drew me close with a gentleness that made my chest ache.
The Summer bond flared between us, heat pooling in my belly as his mouth found mine.
Where Ryder was sweet, Maddox was intense.
He kissed the way he felt things, with his whole being, holding nothing back, and I could taste the warmth of his magic on his lips.
Then Tank. He didn’t come to me. He pulled me to him, a single movement that brought me onto his lap on the edge of the bed.
His hand cradled the back of my head and he kissed me with a steady thoroughness that made my toes curl.
The Spring bond erupted between us, green and gold and grounding, and I felt the magic of the chamber itself respond, the light brightening, the herbs in the floor tiles releasing their scent.
Damon was next. He stood apart from the others, shadows pooling at his feet, and when I looked at him I saw the nervousness I felt reflected back at me.
He’d never done this. Not like this. Not with all of them present.
I slid off Tank’s lap and crossed to him, and when I put my hands on his face, the shadows wrapped around my wrists like bracelets.
“Just us,” I whispered. “Same as before.”
He kissed me and the shadow bond bloomed between us, cool and deep. I felt his wolf press against the bond with a sound that was almost a purr.
Dean was last.
He was standing by the door, arms crossed, and the ice in his bond was running so cold I could feel it from across the room.
There was something behind his eyes that I didn’t understand, a weight he was carrying that had nothing to do with this moment and everything to do with whatever had changed him since the Fifth Court.
I went to him. Stood in front of him and waited.
His jaw was tight. The control he maintained was almost visible, a wall of ice between himself and the vulnerability of what we were about to do.
But his eyes moved over my face with a hunger that the ice couldn’t contain, and when I reached up and pressed my palm to his chest, I felt his heart hammering beneath the frost.
“Whatever it is,” I said quietly, for him alone, “you don’t have to carry it tonight.”
Something cracked behind his eyes. A fracture that he sealed almost instantly, but I saw it. The effort it cost him was written in the tension of his jaw and the way his fingers uncurled from the fists he’d been holding.
He kissed me like a man drowning. Hard, desperate, the Winter magic surging through the bond with a force that made my breath catch. Ice and heat and the particular ache of a man holding himself together through sheer will.
“It’s okay,” I breathed against his mouth. “I’ve got you.”
We moved to the bed. All of us. The logistics of six bodies in a space meant for fewer should have been awkward, but the bonds made it fluid.
I could feel where each of them was through the connections in my chest, could sense their proximity and their intent, and they could feel me.
We moved around each other like water finding its level.
Clothes came off in layers. Ryder’s hands on my shirt, Maddox helping me with the laces.
Tank pulling his own off with the economical efficiency that defined everything he did.
Damon letting the shadows strip him, the dark magic flowing over his body and leaving bare skin in its wake.
Dean last, always last, peeling away layers of clothing and control with the same reluctant precision.
When we were all bare, skin against skin in the warm light of the chamber, and I felt the bonds begin to hum.
Not separately. Together. Five distinct threads reaching for one another, trying to find the pattern that would let them become one.
I could feel each of them as a pulse in my chest. Tank’s grounding green.
Maddox’s bright heat. Ryder’s restless wind.
Dean’s cold and contained ice. Damon’s quiet dark.
They wanted to braid. They just didn’t know how yet.
But they would.
Maddox was first.
He pulled me down with him onto the furs, kneeling in front of me as he stared with longing at my naked body.
The heat of his body was staggering. Summer poured through his skin, and when his mouth closed over mine, the bond opened wider than it ever had before.
Every feeling he’d been holding back since Rhidian, the grief and the gratitude and the love too big for his ribcage, all of it flooded through to me at once.
I gasped against his mouth and he swallowed the sound.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured, and his lips moved from my mouth to the hollow of my throat. He kissed me there, then the curve of my shoulder, then lower, worshipping with every breath. His hand slid up my side, his thumb brushing the underside of my breast with a reverence that made my eyes sting.
Tank was behind me. I hadn’t heard him move, but suddenly there were broad palms sliding under my shoulders, lifting me, settling my back against the solid wall of his chest. His arms came around me from behind, and I felt the Spring bond anchor itself, green and warm and endless.
“Easy, sweetheart,” he rumbled against my ear. His voice did something to the base of my spine. “We’ve got all night.”
Maddox took my nipple into his mouth.
I arched against Tank, the gasp leaving me before I could stop it. Maddox’s tongue circled, teased, and his free hand moved down my belly, over my hip, and between my thighs. He parted me with fingers that knew exactly where to go.
He slid one finger inside me and I felt Summer flare along the bond. Gold and red, painting my insides.
“You’re so wet for us.” His voice was low, reverent. “God, Alyssa.”
Tank’s hands had found my breasts, cradling them while Maddox’s mouth moved between one and the other. One of Tank’s hands slid up, cupped my jaw, turned my face towards his. He kissed me over my shoulder, slow and deep, and the Spring bond bloomed outward until I could taste earth on his tongue.
Maddox added a second finger. His thumb found the spot that made me buck, and Tank’s arms held me steady as I trembled between them.
“Look at her,” Maddox breathed. “Look at our girl.”
“I see her.” Tank’s mouth was at my ear again, his stubble rough against my cheek. His palm skimmed down and covered Maddox’s where it moved between my thighs, and the two bonds surged at once. “She’s magnificent.”
I couldn’t speak. Between Tank’s warmth at my back and Maddox’s mouth on my body and the twin bonds rising through me, I was losing language.
Maddox pulled back. I whimpered at the loss of his hand, and he laughed, soft and dark, then he laid down on the bed and kissed the inside of my knee as he pushed my thighs wider.
Then his mouth was on me.
I cried out. Tank caught the sound with his kiss, muffled it against his own mouth, and his hands tightened on my breasts as Maddox’s tongue worked me open.
The Summer bond was a banked fire spreading through my belly, my thighs, my chest. Tank’s Spring bond rose to meet it, and for the first time I felt two courts pour through me at once.
It was overwhelming. I wasn’t ready for it.
“Breathe.” Tank’s voice, steady as bedrock. “Just breathe with me.”
I breathed. He breathed with me. And the panic eased, replaced by something that felt like standing in the middle of a field at sunrise, warm light pouring over me from every direction.
Maddox’s mouth found my clit again. My hips bucked against his face and Tank held me through it, one arm banded across my collarbones, his other hand stroking down my stomach.
The fire was climbing. Summer was climbing.
I could feel it starting to happen, the pull at the base of my spine, the tightening that promised release.