"Fine," I bite out. "But you follow Regina's lead. This is her ritual, her bond, her choice."
"Of course," he says, smooth as silk. "I am merely here to assist."
"And no taking pictures," Sean adds. "Unless we all look really good, then maybe just a couple for the group chat."
Regina clears her throat. "We should get started. It's nearly time."
We've set up the living room according to her instructions—furniture shoved against walls, floor scrubbed with special herbs that make us sneeze, windows open to the night air even though it's cold as balls outside. No moonlight tonight, new moon and all, but we've got beeswax candles placed at specific points around the room. Sean wanted to use his collection of novelty candles shaped like dicks.
I shut that downhard. It was bad enough when we had to use them the last time the power went out.
Micah and Sean move Sadie's ritual components, following Regina's directions on placement. Rowan helps her draw a circle in salt and crushed herbs on the hardwood, big enough for all six of us to fit inside.
"The timing must be precise," Villeneuve says, checking a pocket watch that belongs in a museum. "The new moon reaches its ideal point in eighteen minutes."
Regina stands in the center, grimoire open, studying the ritual with intense focus. Gods, she's beautiful when she's focused. She's beautiful all the time, obviously, but when she's really wrapped up in some magical bullshit, she gets this look in her eyes that makes me want to put her on the table and fuck her raw on top of all those witchy spell books and blueprints.
Pretty sure my ancestors would curse my dick as penance, buttotallyworth it.
"This is going to require all of us to be physically connected throughout," she says. Her cheeks flush slightly. "The whole time."
"Skin to skin contact is essential for energy transfer," Villeneuve confirms, adjusting one of the candles. "The more points of contact, the more stable the bond."
"Like a circuit," Rowan says, and my wolf bristles that he's agreeing with our mortal enemy.
"Precisely, Mr. Miftah. The energy must flow freely between all participants."
"So we're basically going to be a naked wolf pretzel with Regina in the middle?" Sean's already looking way too excited. "Supernatural orgy for magical purposes? Nice."
"It's a sacred ritual, you absolute horndog," Micah hisses.
"Can't it be both?" Sean argues. "Sacred AND sexy?"
My wolf paces under my skin. He knows what's coming. The bond we've been chasing since we first caught Regina's scent in that coffee shop. The completion of our pack.
Our mate, finallyours.
"Killian," Regina says softly, and I realize I've been staring at her like a creep. "Are you having second thoughts?"
"Not a single one," I say, meaning it down to my bones. "You're our mate. This just makes it official."
She looks down at her hands with a slight smile. "It's going to change all of us. It's going to be permanent."
"Good. Forever sounds perfect when it's with you."
"Damn bro, when did you turn into Nicholas Sparks?" Sean mutters. "Should we get you a rain poncho for the inevitable kiss in a downpour?"
Micah stares at him. "Are you telling me you've actually read a book?"
Sean tilts his head. "There was a book?"
"There it is," Micah scoffs. "The universal order is back in balance."
Villeneuve clears his throat. "Positions, please. Everyone inside the circle."
I step back from Regina, taking my spot at the northern point. Rowan goes east, Micah south, Sean west. Regina stays at the center, and Villeneuve positions himself just outside—close enough to step in, but not part of the bond itself.
"Before we begin," Villeneuve says, producing the dragon's blood, "there is something you should understand. This ritual will be intense. You will feel each other's emotions, sensations, possibly even fragments of memories. The boundaries between you will temporarily dissolve."
