“Then don’t be without me.”
His eyes widen almost in disbelief under my touch, like he can’t believe I’m real. Like he’s afraid one wrong move will make me disappear again.
“Bree,” he whispers, my name a prayer and a question all at once.
I answer by kissing him.
It’s desperate from the first moment—messy and hot and hungry in a way that has nothing to do with gentleness. Wes kisses me back like he’s drowning and I’m air, his hands fisting in Rhett’s hoodie, pulling me closer until there’s no space left between us.
This isn’t the careful comfort Rhett offered last night. This is raw need, the kind that burns through pretense and leaves only truth behind.
The moment our tongues meet, something shifts in the air around us. I feel the Ether responding to the contact—warmth rising from my skin, but different than usual. Instead of the gentle curl I’m used to, it rushes outward, pouring into him. I can feel threads of energy sinking beneath his skin, igniting something that was waiting just beneath the surface.
The pull at my Ether is gentle but unmistakable. Familiar.
I’ve felt this before.
With Thane.
I pull back, breathless, staring up at Wes as understanding crashes over me. “You’re feeding from me.”
His eyes widen, then close as if in defeat. “Yes.”
“You’re—” I pause, the word catching in my throat.
His jaw tightens like he’s bracing for me to flinch. “Say it.”
“You’re a Feeder,” I whisper. Not a question this time.
He nods, opening his eyes to meet mine. “Incubus-class, like Stellan. But different.” His voice cracks on the admission, quiet but raw. “I wasn’t going to tell you. I thought… if you knew, you’d look at me different. Like everyone else does.”
His voice is quiet, uncertain. “I don’t fully understand how it works yet, but I know the deeper the connection, the closer I am to someone—” He pauses, searching for words. “The more it sustains me. The hunger quiets.”
Understanding floods through me. “That’s why it gets worse when you’re alone. Why it eases when you’re with us.”
“With you,” he corrects. “It eases when I’m with you.” His hands find my waist, gentle but certain. “Everyone else helps a little, but you—” He stops, struggling to explain something he doesn’t fully understand himself. “You’re different. Essential.”
“And just now, when we kissed—”
“The moment I felt close to you, really close, the hunger just—it took over. I couldn’t stop it.” His eyes search mine. “I don’t know exactly what I’m taking from you, but I know I need it. And I know this is only the second time I’ve actually fed.”
“Second time?”
He blushes—actually blushes—and looks away. “I fed from Gray. Just a little. It was an accident, we were—” He stops, color deepening across his cheekbones. “We were close, and it just happened.”
I pause, processing this. Gray and Wes. The image shouldn’t affect me the way it does, but heat curls low in my stomach. Not jealousy—something else entirely. Something that makes my pulse quicken and my breath catch. Heat that belongs to Wes’s confession, to the thought of Gray, to both of them together.
“Are you okay with that?” he asks quietly, misreading my silence. “I know it’s weird, and I didn’t mean for it to happen—”
“I’m not afraid of what you are, Wes. I don’t want less because of it—I want more. Of you. Of this.”
His eyes widen slightly. “Really?”
“Really.” I step closer, drawn by the honesty in his confession, by the vulnerability of admitting he’d been intimate with Gray. “Tell me what it was like.”
But instead of answering, he searches my face with something like wonder. “You’re not pulling away. You know what I am, what I need, and you’re not running.”
“No,” I say, reaching up to cup his face again. “I’m not running.”
