Watching me back
SCARLETT
I couldn’t sleep.
Lily breathed evenly beside me, one arm flung over the pillow. The soft rise and fall of her chest only made the silence heavier.
Stuart’s words kept looping through my head.
*Your father won’t take it well if he finds out from someone else.*
If Alpha Atlas discovered I’d spent the two-week break here—under the same roof as three dominant Alphas—the consequences would be brutal.
Being locked inside pack territory for the rest of my life would be the lightest punishment.
Forced marriage wasn’t unheard of, even for the Alpha’s daughter who still didn’t have a full wolf.
Most families wouldn’t want me, but that had never stopped my father from trying to use me as a political piece.
My head started to pound.
I slipped out of bed carefully so I wouldn’t wake Lily. The floorboards were cool under my bare feet as I crossed to the wardrobe. My violin case was tucked at the back, exactly where I’d left it the day I arrived. I hadn’t touched it since the cliff, since Kaiden had pulled me from the water.
Tonight the urge was sharp.
I pulled an oversized sweater over my singlet, lifted the case, and stepped into the hallway. All I wanted was somewhere open, night air on my face, and music loud enough to drown out the noise in my head.
I was almost at the stairs when the scent hit me.
All three of them. Musk, warmth, and something distinctly Alpha filled the corridor, strong enough to stop me mid-step.
My body reacted before I could make sense of it. A strange warmth spread through me. My legs felt less reliable than they had a second ago.
My feet moved before I could stop them.
I followed the scent to their door. It wasn’t fully closed. A thin strip of light cut across the hallway.
Then I heard them.
A muffled groan came from inside, followed by the soft creak of the mattress and the unmistakable sound of bodies moving together.
Heat rushed into my face.
I should leave.
Every bit of common sense said to walk away, yet my feet carried me closer to the door instead.
Instead, I found myself creeping closer to the door until I was near enough to peer through the narrow opening.
Kane was behind Saint on the bed, driving into him hard enough to rock them both forward with every thrust. Rhys knelt in front of him, one hand tangled in Saint’s hair as Saint took him into his mouth.
I froze.
For several seconds, my mind simply refused to catch up with what my eyes were seeing. I had known what the sounds meant. Obviously, I had known.
Knowing and actually seeing it were two very different things.
Every thought about leaving vanished.
The three of them moved together with an ease that made it obvious this was nothing new. Kane pulled Saint back into each thrust while Rhys guided him deeper, golden eyes half-lidded with dark pleasure.
I clapped a hand over my mouth.
Kane pulled nearly all the way out. The flushed, purple head of his cock glistened before he slammed back in.
Sweat tracked down the hard lines of his torso, catching the low light along the deep V that disappeared beneath the waistband of his open pants.
Every thrust dragged another guttural sound from him—the kind that belonged more to his wolf than the man.
The scent pouring from the room made my head spin. Something warm and unfamiliar stirred low in my belly. My grip tightened around the violin case until my knuckles ached.
I knew I needed to leave before one of them noticed the door was open.
But I still couldn’t look away.
Kane’s hips snapped forward again and again, the muscles in his back and thighs flexing with every brutal thrust.
Saint’s body rocked between them, throat stretched around Rhys, the wet, filthy sounds filling the room.
Rhys’s head was tipped slightly back, lips parted, fist tight in Saint’s hair as he guided him deeper.
There was nothing restrained about it—only a wild intensity that bordered on violent.
A sudden warmth gathered between my thighs. I shifted, pressing my legs together, and immediately wished I hadn’t.
I was wet.
Actually wet from watching them.
Mortification burned all the way to my ears.
That was enough. Whatever possessed me to stand there spying had clearly taken complete leave of its senses.
Rhys opened his eyes.
Gold burned through the darkness.
And he was looking straight at the door.
Straight at me.
I lurched backward and struck the opposite wall with my shoulder.
For one horrible second I couldn’t move.
Then my body caught up with my brain.
I turned and ran.
I flew down the hallway and took the stairs so quickly I nearly missed the last step. By the time I shoved through the front door, I wasn’t thinking about where I was going. I only needed walls between me and that bedroom.
The night air hit my face. I stopped just outside and leaned against the door, clutching the violin case to my chest.
Holy shit.
What the hell had I just watched?
Worse—why had I kept watching?
My thighs pressed together again, and the lingering sensation answered that question far more clearly than I wanted.
“Nope,” I whispered.
Absolutely not thinking about that.
I had always known there was something between the three of them. It was there in the casual touches, the way they invaded one another’s space without thinking, how easily affection passed between them.
But that?
I hadn’t known about that.
They were mates.
They had to be.
And apparently I’d chosen tonight to discover it by standing outside their bedroom like a fucking creep.
I covered my face with one hand.
Rhys had seen me.
That thought was somehow worse than everything else.
I pushed away from the door and crossed the lawn, putting as much distance between myself and the house as I could without actually leaving the property.
The old oak at the edge of the grounds offered enough darkness to hide in. I sank onto the bench beneath it and set the violin case across my lap.
For a while I did nothing.
Just breathed.
The cool air helped. Not enough, but it helped.
Finally I opened the case.
My violin rested inside against the dark velvet. The sight of it alone gave me something else to focus on.
I lifted it out and settled it beneath my chin.
One adjustment to the bow.
A breath.
Then I played.
The first note came out quieter than I intended. I followed it with another. And another.
Soon I stopped choosing where the melody went. My hands knew what to do without me.
The music carried everything I couldn’t seem to settle—the embarrassment, the confusion, the images that kept forcing their way back into my head no matter how determined I was to get rid of them.
Kane behind Saint.
Rhys’s hand in his hair.
Those golden eyes opening.
Finding me.
My bow faltered.
I swallowed and kept playing.
The house stood behind me, silent against the night.
I refused to turn around.
Because some ridiculous part of me was certain that if I did, one of them would be there.
Watching me back.