11. Bree
Bree
I’m so comfortable. The thought drifts through my mind slowly, lazy. I shift closer to the heat at my back, sighing as I settle deeper into it.
No cold. No screaming. No chains.
Just this. Just warmth and the slow rise and fall of breathing that isn’t mine.
My body feels different. Not heavy. Not aching. For the first time in—god, I don’t even know how long—I feel good. Really good. Like my skin fits again. Like my nerves remember how to feel something other than pain.
I open my eyes slowly, letting the soft morning light filter in through silk curtains I remember from the last time I woke up.
It’s still not the sanctuary, but I’m still safe.
I turn my head and find Wes beside me, still asleep. His hand is loose around mine, dark lashes resting against his cheeks. There’s a faint glow under his skin—like sunlight caught just beneath the surface.
My chest does something complicated looking at him.
Behind me, I feel Stellan. His arm is still around me, holding me tighter than before. His breath is warm against my shoulder, even and measured in sleep.
It’s just the three of us.
The realization settles slowly. The others must have left at some point during the night—given us space, maybe, or gone to rest somewhere else. But Wes and Stellan stayed.
I don’t want to move. Don’t want to break whatever this moment is .
My body hums with energy I haven’t felt in so long. The Ether pulses softly around me, threading between the three of us like silk. It doesn’t feel desperate or wild or like it’s tearing me apart. It feels full. Content.
Alive.
I take a slow breath, and even that feels good. My lungs expand without pain, my ribs don’t ache, and for the first time since the Void, I feel like my body belongs to me again.
Wes stirs first, his fingers tightening slightly around mine. His eyes open slowly—dark and warm—and when he sees me looking at him, a slow smile curves his mouth.
“You’re awake.”
“I think so,” I whisper. My voice is still rough, but it doesn’t hurt to speak.
He shifts closer, just slightly, and brushes a strand of hair back from my face. The touch is gentle, deliberate, and it sparks something—warmth spreading where his fingers graze my cheek.
Something tightens in my chest. Hunger. But not the empty, desperate kind I’ve carried for what feels like forever. This is different. This is warm. This wants something I never thought I’d want again.
“How do you feel?” His thumb traces the line of my jaw, feather-light.
“Better.” I swallow, my pulse picking up. “Better than I have in a long time.”
Behind me, Stellan shifts. I feel the exact moment he wakes—the way his body tenses slightly, then relaxes when he realizes where he is. His arm flexes against my ribs, and I feel his breath catch when he registers how close we are.
I feel something else too—the hard length of him pressing against my lower back. Heat floods through me, pooling low in my belly.
I turn my head just enough to look at him over my shoulder. Gray eyes meet mine, unreadable and intense.
“You’re both still here,” I say quietly. My voice comes out breathier than I intended.
Stellan’s voice is low, controlled. “Where else would we be?”
The Ether hums louder between us. I feel it pulling—reaching for connection.
Wes’s hand slides from my jaw to the back of my neck, warm and grounding. “Bree.”
I look back at him. His eyes are darker now, pupils wide. I can feel his hunger echoing mine—the same pull, the same ache.
I don’t think. Don’t second-guess.
It’s soft at first, tentative, just a brush of lips against lips.
But the moment we connect, the Ether flares, hot and bright, and Wes groans low in his throat.
His hand tightens at my neck, pulling me closer, and the kiss deepens.
His tongue parts my lips, sliding against mine with a hunger that makes my head spin.
I moan into his mouth, my hands fisting in his shirt, pulling him as close as I can.
Behind me, Stellan goes completely still. I feel the tension in his body—the instinct to pull away, distance himself, retreat into that careful control he wraps around himself like armor. The bed shifts as he moves to leave, and panic flares in my chest .
“Stay.” Wes’s voice cuts through the haze, rough and commanding. He breaks the kiss, his dark eyes flicking past me to Stellan. “If you want him to.”
I don’t hesitate.
I shift in Wes’s arms, turning toward Stellan, and reach for him. My hand finds his jaw, stubble rough under my palm. “Stay?” I whisper, my voice trembling.
Stellan pauses, his gray eyes searching mine for something—permission, certainty, maybe both. Then he crashes his mouth into mine.
This kiss isn’t like Wes’s. It’s harder, desperate, like he’s been holding back for so long that now he’s letting go, he can’t stop.
His hand threads through my hair, gripping tight, and I press closer, moaning into his mouth.
The Ether explodes around us, silver light flooding the room, wrapping around all three of us.
Wes’s hand slides to my waist, fingers digging into my hip, and Stellan’s other hand grips my thigh, tugging me closer. The combined touch is overwhelming—magic and need and heat tangled together until I can’t think.
I pull back just enough to breathe, and Stellan’s eyes have gone molten silver, his control cracking at the edges. “Bree,” he says, and it sounds like a warning and a plea all at once.
“I want this,” I gasp, my voice steadier than I feel. “I want both of you.”
Wes sits up slightly, and there’s something different in the way he moves now—confident, purposeful, like he’s stepped fully into the power he’s been growing into. “Then lie back,” he commands, and the authority in his voice makes me shiver .
I do.
The sheets are cool against my skin, and I’m suddenly aware of how little I’m wearing—just a thin nightgown that clings to me, leaving nothing to the imagination.
Stellan shifts beside me, and I watch the way his gaze tracks to Wes. There’s raw want in his eyes, his jaw clenched tight, his breathing controlled but shallow. Like he’s barely holding himself together.
“We’re going to take care of you,” Wes says, his hand sliding up my thigh, slow and deliberate. The touch sends heat racing through me, and I bite my lip to stifle a moan. “But we’re going to do this right.”
“Wes—” I start, but his finger presses against my lips, silencing me.
“Trust me,” he murmurs, his voice rough but steady. He looks at Stellan. “Help me.”
Stellan’s eyes flash silver. “Carefully.”
“Always.” Wes’s hands find the hem of my nightgown, and he looks at me, waiting for permission. I nod, trembling, and he lifts the fabric slowly, revealing inch after inch of bare skin.
Stellan’s hands join his, their fingers brushing as they peel the nightgown up and over my head. I’m left in nothing but my underwear and the silver light of the Ether wrapping around us.
I expect to feel exposed, vulnerable, but the way they’re both looking at me—like I’m something precious and powerful—makes me feel anything but.
“Beautiful,” Wes murmurs, his hand tracing up my ribs, fingertips dragging slow patterns across my skin. Stellan’s hand mirrors the path on my other side, his touch more deliberate, like he’s memorizing every inch of me .
When Stellan’s thumb brushes the underside of my breast, I gasp, arching into his touch. “Careful,” Wes says, but there’s no reprimand in it—just a reminder. “Slow.”
“I know,” Stellan growls, his voice strained. His eyes find mine. “Tell me if it’s too much.”
It’s not. God, it’s not even close to enough.
Wes leans down, his mouth hot against my skin as he kisses a trail down my stomach. Every touch sends shivers through me, my breath coming in shallow gasps. Stellan’s mouth finds my neck, teeth grazing that sensitive spot just below my ear, and the combination makes me arch off the bed.
“Easy,” Wes murmurs against my skin, but his hands are tight on my hips, fingers digging in just enough to ground me. “We’ve got you.”
Stellan’s hand slides between my thighs, over my damp underwear, and the pressure makes me whimper. “Here?” he asks, his voice rough.
“Not yet.” Wes’s hand covers Stellan’s, guiding it away. “She needs more first.”
I watch Stellan’s jaw clench, his whole body taut with restraint. He wants to touch me—badly—but he’s holding back, letting Wes guide this. Like Wes sees something I don’t yet—knows what I need before I do.
Wes’s fingers hook into my underwear, dragging them down slowly. I lift my hips to help, and Stellan’s hand moves to my stomach, holding me steady while Wes finishes pulling them off .
Wes shifts lower, settling between my thighs. His hands slide up the inside of my legs, gentle but firm, and then his mouth is on me—tongue sliding through my wet heat—and I cry out.
The pleasure is immediate, sharp, and overwhelming. His hands grip my thighs, holding me open, but he doesn’t rush. He takes his time, learning what makes me shake, what makes me gasp.
Stellan’s mouth finds mine, swallowing the sounds I make. His hand moves to my breast, thumb circling my nipple in time with Wes’s tongue, and the layered sensations make my head spin.
I feel myself climbing fast—pressure building, coiling tight in my belly. “Please,” I gasp against Stellan’s mouth. “I’m so close—”
Wes pulls back, his breath ragged. “Not yet. I want to make this good for you.”
Stellan groans, forehead dropping to my shoulder. “Wes—”
“I know.” Wes’s voice is rough now, his own control fraying. “Just a little longer.”
“She’s ready,” Stellan growls, hunger lacing his words.
“Almost.” Wes leans back down, and this time when his tongue moves, his fingers slide inside me too. The combination makes me arch, a sound escaping that I don’t recognize.
Stellan’s mouth moves to my breast, teeth scraping, and I’m climbing again—faster, higher.
“That’s it,” Wes says against me. “Let us feel it.”
I’m right there—on the edge—my hands in Wes’s hair, clutching at Stellan’s shoulder.
Wes pulls back again, and I could cry. “Please,” I beg. “Please, I need— ”
“I know what you need.” Wes moves up beside me, his hand gentle on my face. “One more time. I promise. Then we’ll let you fall.”
Stellan’s hands find my wrists, pressing them into the mattress above my head. Not restraining—anchoring. His eyes are pure silver now, his control hanging by a thread. “Can you take more?”
I nod frantically, desperate for release.
“Good girl,” Stellan murmurs, and the praise makes something in me clench.
“Hold her,” Wes commands.
Stellan’s grip tightens, and then Wes is there again—mouth and fingers working together with focused intensity. This time he doesn’t stop. He drives me higher, my hips bucking against his face, begging now, words spilling out.
“That’s it,” Wes growls. “Come for us.”
Stellan’s mouth crashes down on mine, and I break.
The orgasm tears through me—white-hot and endless and so intense I can’t breathe.
The Ether explodes outward, silver light so bright it burns behind my closed eyelids.
I feel the pleasure feeding back through the bonds, amplifying, multiplying between the three of us until I can’t tell whose release is whose.
And then it surges outward.
Not just to Wes and Stellan. Through me. Through every bond connecting me to the others. I feel it racing toward them like lightning—Rhett’s fire, Gray’s earth, Theo’s light, Jace’s wind, Thane’s cold, Seth’s strange emptiness-turned-presence.
All of them. At once .
I feel them respond—shock, confusion, half-awake across the house. The connection flares bright and then settles, humming contentedly.
The feedback is overwhelming. Wes gasps, his hands tightening almost to the point of pain on my thighs. Stellan shudders against me, his control finally, completely breaking as his own release crashes through him untouched.
We collapse together in a tangle of limbs and ragged breathing. The light fades slowly, settling into a soft pulse around us.
For a long moment, no one moves. No one can.
My heartbeat slows enough that I can think again. My whole body feels loose, warm, complete.
Wes is the first to shift, pressing a kiss to my hip, then my stomach, then my ribs. “You okay?” he murmurs, his voice rough with concern.
I nod, not trusting my voice yet. My whole body is still trembling with aftershocks.
Stellan’s forehead is still against my shoulder, his breath coming in harsh pants. His hands have loosened around my wrists but he hasn’t let go entirely, like he needs the anchor point.
“What was that?” I finally manage, my voice wrecked.
“You fed from us,” Stellan says quietly, and I can hear the awe in his voice. “Both of us. And then you sent it to all of them.”
“What?! I didn’t mean to—”
“You needed to.” Wes moves up beside me, his hand gentle on my face, thumb brushing my cheekbone. “Your Ether knew what to do.”
I close my eyes, feeling the bonds hum contentedly in my chest. They’re all there—warm and bright and whole. Connected .
“They’re going to know,” I whisper. “They’re going to know what we just—”
“Good,” Wes says simply.
When I open my eyes, I catch the way Stellan is looking at Wes—something raw and unguarded in his expression that I’ve never seen before. And the way Wes holds his gaze, unflinching, a slow understanding passing between them.
Something shifts in the air. Unspoken but undeniable.
“We’re really back,” I whisper.
Stellan’s hand finds mine, threading our fingers together. His voice is rough when he speaks.
“We’re really back.”