Chapter Twenty-Three
Neither of the twins was pleased when, after two nights away from their partner, they realized the effects the full moon had on her.
Freya was pale, her eyes surrounded by dark circles, and she seemed to have lost weight, disappearing into herself.
Clicking his tongue, Declan reacted in the only way he knew how: by attacking.
Since they’d been at their Alpha’s house, they left for the gym separately.
The moon wasn’t quite full, and they had better control over their wolves, courtesy of the pills their uncle had given them.
Freya was already there when they arrived, but Tanya had a frown on her face, and in her eyes, they read the truth.
Freya had had a setback and was now hiding.
From them? From the world? All of the above?
They found her at the laundry, folding towels with an absent look in their eyes.
She didn’t seem to hear them, not even when they mockingly knocked on the door.
Ciaran took the towel she was folding from her, and Declan ran his hands down her arms, feeling how cold they were.
With his fingertips, he lifted her chin, studying her exhausted features.
“What has my little one been doing to herself?” he asked rhetorically.
“Clearly, she’s not taking good care of herself,” tutted Ciaran, his eyes boring into hers. “She seems absent. It’s her body, but it’s as if she’s checked out.”
“I’m fine,” she whispered, and Declan’s gaze turned dark.
“Do not lie to us, little one. We’re not fond of lies.”
“I have work to do,” she answered and turned her back on them. Ciaran snatched the basket of unfolded laundry from her hands, threw it into the cupboard, slammed the door shut, and rubbed her hands together as if shaking off nonexistent dust.
“There. Work completed,” he said, seeming satisfied with himself. Freya snorted, and the twins were relieved to see any reaction from her, even if it wasn't the most passionate one.
“I have to work, leave me alone.”
“Is that what you want, little one? To be left alone?” asked Declan and there was a hint of danger in his voice.
“Yes, it is.”
“You don’t want us to do this, then?” he asked, before invading her personal space and burying his nose in her neck, inhaling her fragrance, and tracing a path with his tongue from her ear to her shoulder.
“Or this,” added Ciaran, doing the same on the other side, while his finger playfully traced her neckline.
“Or this...” said Declan, before sliding his fingers through the elastic of her trousers to her underwear, feeling it dampen beneath his fingers.
“Or even this...” muttered Ciaran, his voice rough from desire, playing with her nipples before taking control of her mouth. Declan was still playing with her clit, and she closed her eyes, her cheeks flushed from desire, mewling incoherently.
“So good, taking my brother’s fingers so well ... will you come for him, angel?” whispered Ciaran. They knew her body language, they knew she was on the brink of explosion, all it took was one final push and she’d fly free from the abyss.
“Ah... Yes... Please...”
Just as she was about to explode, Declan stopped and she mewled, a weak protest that made him smile with satisfaction. Ciaran stopped as well and stepped away.
“You wanted us to go, so I guess it’s time for us to leave you alone.”
“Wh-what?” cheeks flushed, Freya looked at them, seeming lost. She was probably still feeling the effects of the denial of the orgasm. She clearly wanted their hands on her, but also didn’t seem to know how to ask for what she wanted.
“You’re not being true to us, little one. Do you really want us to go?”
“N-no.”
“Do you want to come, angel?” Ciaran's voice whispered, touching her lightly over her clothes.
“Yes...” she sighed.
“Then you’ll have to be truthful, little one,” said Declan, inserting two fingers abruptly into her soaked folds while Ciaran took her nipple in his mouth and nibbled, licked, and sucked, making her cry out her orgasm.
Declan took possession of her mouth and swallowed her cry with satisfaction.
Freya’s legs gave out, and she slid down the wall, panting, her eyes still closed.
“Well, little one?” asked Declan, when he felt she was more coherent. He allowed her to hide her face in Ciaran’s chest, but only because her legs were still trembling and he wanted to see her face when they talked.
“I ... I had flashbacks and nightmares these last few nights. I ... I was there again. And it was ... awful...”
“Baby,” Ciaran sighed and wrapped her in the warmth of his arms, kissing the top of her head. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do. You’re not stupid,” Declan said sharply, and Ciaran gave him a warning look.
Freya, however, seemed to grow angry and exclaimed, “How do you know? You don’t know me!”
“Oh, I guess we have a pretty good idea,” said Declan, licking the same fingers that had been pleasuring her. In one swift movement, he took her hand and placed it on his chest. His heart pounded erratically within his chest, and she blinked.
“See, little one? It beats for you. You say we don’t know you?
I know you have scars, and the more hidden they are, the more dangerous they are, because I can’t see them, can’t help you.
I need you to talk to me, or Ciaran, or us both.
We’re here for you. But we can only help if you tell us what’s happening. ”
“Words, angel. We don’t know what’s inside...”
“My head. I heard you the first ten times,” she grumbled, and this little rebellious comment made them smile. They had managed to bring her back.
“So, angel ... dinner tonight? At Nanna’s?”
She smiled and nodded.