Maya cries out, her body convulsing around mine as the bonding bite triggers another, more intense orgasm. The taste of her blood fills my mouth, copper and cherry and something uniquely her, as my own release crashes through me. I hold her tightly, keeping my teeth pressed into her flesh as I empty myself inside her, as the bond snaps into place between us with an almost audible click.
For a moment, the world narrows to just this. Maya in my arms, my teeth in her neck, our bodies joined in the most intimate way possible. I can feel her, not just physically but mentally, emotionally. A new presence in my mind, bright and fierce and unmistakably Maya.
Slowly, reluctantly, I release my bite, pressing a gentle kiss to the mark I’ve left. Maya slumps against me, her breathing ragged, her body still trembling with aftershocks. I stroke her back, murmuring soothing nonsense as we both adjust to the new bond humming between us.
“My turn next,” Ares says, his voice a mixture of teasing and genuine desire. “Once you two can move again.”
Maya laughs breathlessly against my chest. “Give me five minutes,” she says, her voice muffled by my skin. “Maybe ten.”
I chuckle, the sound rumbling through both our bodies. “Take all the time you need,” I tell her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “We have all night.”
She lifts her head to look at me, her eyes soft and hazy with pleasure but still sharp with that intelligence that first drew me to her. “All night,” she agrees, then grins wickedly. “And tomorrow. And the day after that.”
Ares groans dramatically. “You’re going to kill us both,” he complains, though the hardness of his cock belies any real objection.
“What a way to go,” I reply, earning another laugh from Maya.
She shifts, carefully lifting herself off me with a small sound of loss. I watch as she crawls toward Ares, her movements languid and graceful despite the exhaustion she must be feeling. The bonding bite on her neck is already beginning to heal—faster than a normal wound, as all bonding bites do—but it will leave a scar. My mark. My claim.
The thought sends a possessive thrill through me, even as I remind myself that she isn’t mine alone. She belongs to all of us. Just as we all belong to her.
I watch through half-lidded eyes as she straddles Ares, as his massive hands span her waist, as she leans down to kiss him with the same hunger she showed me. The sight should make me jealous, should trigger the territorial instincts all Alphas possess. Instead, it fills me with a strange contentment. This is right. This is how it should be.
Maya glances over her shoulder at me, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Don’t fall asleep,” she warns. “I’m not done with you yet.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I reply, though my body aches with exhaustion. For her, I’ll find the strength to continue. For her, I’ll push past any limit.
As she turns her attention back to Ares, I allow myself a moment of reflection. How strange that this—Maya, the pack, this complex web of bonds and desires—should feel like home when I’ve spent my entire life avoiding attachment. How unexpected that I, who have always prided myself on needing no one, should find such contentment in belonging.
Perhaps this is what I’ve been missing all along. Not freedom from bonds, but the right bonds. The right people to be bound to.
With that thought warming me from within, I watch as Maya and Ares lose themselves in each other, waiting for my turn tocome again, ready to give her whatever she needs for as long as she needs it.
After all, what’s a little exhaustion compared to the privilege of being chosen by her?
CHAPTER 36
Ares
Steam billows around me as I push open the heavy wooden door of the royal sauna. The heat hits like a physical force, wrapping around my skin and immediately drawing sweat to the surface. I squint through the haze, making out Logan’s silhouette on one of the cedar benches. He’s alone—exactly as I’d hoped.
“Hiding from your adoring subjects?” I ask, letting the door swing shut behind me.
Logan doesn’t startle. Even with his eyes closed, he would have caught my scent before I entered. “If I wanted company, I wouldn’t be in a room hot enough to melt steel,” he replies, not bothering to open his eyes.
I cross to the stone basin in the corner, ladling water over the heated rocks. The resulting hiss of steam fills the silence between us as I settle on the bench opposite him, the wood creaking beneath my weight.
“And yet here I am,” I say, leaning back against the wall. The cedar is smooth against my bare shoulders, polished by generations of royal backsides seeking refuge from court politics in scalding heat.
Logan sighs, finally opening his golden eyes to fix me with a resigned stare. “Here you are. With that look on your face that says you’re about to bring up something I don’t want to discuss.”
I can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips. He knows me too well, this man I’ve followed through war and rebellion and the bloody aftermath of both. “Am I that predictable?”
“Only to those of us who’ve survived you for more than a decade.” He reaches for a nearby pitcher, pouring water into a wooden cup. “What is it this time? Another border dispute? More nobles complaining about the reforms? Or has someone else tried to kill me that I don’t know about?”
The casual way he references assassination attempts should bother me more than it does. But that’s our reality now—Logan sits on a throne still warm from his father’s body, implementing changes that threaten the power structure that’s existed for generations. Of course they want him dead. It’s my job to make sure they fail.
“Nothing so dramatic,” I assure him, watching as he takes a long drink. “Just a matter that needs your attention before it becomes a problem.”
