My cock pulses, spilling hot and thick against the side of the seat. My channel clamps down around Grason, and with a final, savage roar, he follows me, flooding my ass with his heat.
I Still Don’t Fucking Know Where I Am
Tansy
I’m floatingthrough the dark, soft moonlight seeps through the back of my eyelids.
The air smells different. Gone are the aromas of wet canvas, sweat, and sedatives. Now, everything smells warm. Clean. The faint scent of sandalwood, pine, and soap drifts in the air around me.
My body shifts, suspended in air. I’m weightless. The world sways with each step someone takes, and it takes a long, fuzzy moment to realize it isn’t the world moving. I am.
I’m being carried.
Cold night air brushes my bare legs, sharp and needling, but then it’s gone, swallowed by heavy warmth. The shift makes my skin prickle, instincts curling tight in my gut.
We’re inside somewhere.
A house?
A building?
Another tent?
I can’t tell. Everything is muffled, drug-soft, my thoughts dragging like they’re stuck in honey. I don’t even know how much time has passed…
“You’re home.” A soft voice lets out a sigh of relief.
“Hey, Beck,” the alpha carrying me whispers.Warren. His name drifts up from the fog in my head.
The soft voice answers him, threaded with worry this time. “Is she…okay?” He brushes close, light footsteps and a smaller frame. He smells of clean linen and rain-soaked cedar.
Gentle, quiet, soft.
Beta.
Safe.
My muscles loosen just a fraction as I breathe him in.
“She’s asleep,” Warren says, adjusting his hold on me. His chest vibrates with the words. “Sedated. Heavily.”
A pause. Then a rough swallow from the beta.
“How’s Cassian?” the tall alpha asks, his voice sounding scared of the answer.What was his name again?Gray? I think…
The beta, Beck, lets out a shaky breath. “He woke up briefly this morning, but it was just for a minute.” The beta’s voice trembles. “His fever’s still really bad, and the swelling hasn’t gone down at all.”
Something shifts in Warren’s chest beneath my cheek—tightening, like his whole body is bracing around the news. Grief? Fear?
“He asked for both of you,” Beck whispers, and I swear I can smell tears in the air. “But then he passed out again.”
Warren exhales through his nose, shaky but controlled. “It’s okay, babe,” he rasps, and my bodyabsorbs the sound through the rise and fall of his breathing.
I should open my eyes.
I should demand to know where I am and what they want from me, but the drugs tug everything out of focus again.
The voices fade as Warren starts walking.
