Kenny lifted the boy, and Boone helped him attach it to the bracket already in place.
It lit once it was connected, and everyone cheered.
“I declare the celebrations over!” Kenny said.
And then he telepathed Willow, and she could feel Boone and Silas in the connection too.
Randall started the tradition. The moon going on is a hard stop to the mandatory portion. I figure he did it so he could go the fuck to bed, and that works for me too. S’posed to be my night, but if everyone wants to sink their dick into our fucktoy as badly as me, I’m thinking we make this a foursome night, and I’ll get my night tomorrow.
Fuck yeahBoone said, nearly before Kenny finished his sentence.
My arm don’t need twistin’,Silas said.
I’ll be up within ten,Kenny said.Fucktoy, get your ass upstairs.
Heat slammed into her belly at the command, her legs going weak. He’d asked the men their opinions, but not her. She didn’t get a say, and that was exactly as it should be.
She caught Boone’s smirk, Silas’s hungry eyes, and Kenny’s hard, assessing stare that said what they all wanted was exactly the same: their hawk, under them, filled and used in every hole until she was wrecked and broken, but even then, they wouldn’t stop until they were good and finished with her.
Silas’s theory finished her thought — until there was nothing left but obedient meat.
She dashed upstairs with Silas’s damned kink-philosophy echoing in her brain, craving the wreckage, the use, the stripping away of everything social and proper. It would be a relief to fall back into pure obedience, to once again be what only they could make her — a creature who isn’t allowed choices, who lives to obey, to serve. To be the vessel who brings the three men together.
While she undressed in the hallway, the thought occurred to her: vessel was a much prettier designation than meat-with-a-pulse, but Silas’s term was probably more accurate.
Chapter 12
Silas came home with rage written all over his skin. Willow could see it in his face through the windshield two hundred yards away.
Her sense of smell sucks, but she caught it when the door opened, sharp and sour. Acrid.
He didn’t slam the door, but the weight of it carried like a blow all the same.
He didn’t speak, didn’t look at her standing on the porch. He just headed for the meadow, boots flattening the dry grass in long, deliberate strides.
She followed, heart in her throat.
He didn’t stop until he hit the meadow, stripping with the same methodical efficiency he brought to everything. Clothes folded, boots stowed in the caddy beneath the stage — controlled, contained, as if the routine and the promise of what came next kept the beast leashed those final moments.
And then he let go. One blink, and the man was gone, a flash of morphing light and shadow that left a wolf in his place, huge and hungry.
Muscle and magic, fur and fury, and the thunder of paws hammering into the frozen ground as he melted into the forest.
Willow inhaled deeply, grounding herself while she thought through what she could do.
The obfuscation spell on the meadow meant they couldchangeunder the sky, and she decided this was one of those special circumstances. Kenny had said she couldchangewithout permission if she thought he’d agree with her reasoning.
And she thought someone should keep an eye on Silas. Be close once he ran whatever was wrong out of his system.
Also, she wanted to show him someone gave a fuck.
So she stripped, tucked her clothes into a cubby, and leapt into the air with human legs — and a half-second later was beating the wind itself into submission with feathered wings.
Once, twice, and the ground dropped away beneath her.
The hawk screamed into the brittle winter sky.
Below, the wolf’s paws thundered over dried leaves, steady as a war drum. His breath plumed white, each exhale a living rhythm. The forest seemed to bend for him, parting brush and shadow so he could run faster, harder. Wild.
