Cyn pounces on her, and the lights turn on. She’s on his lap, straddling him on the couch. He kisses her, but I can see her hand reaching between them to caress him.
Cyn moans into her mouth as she sinks down onto him.
Vale comes up behind her and cups her breasts, teasing them and murmuring to her, but I can’t do anything but watch. It’s torture, but it’s the best feeling in the world. I can feel everything through the bond. Cyn’s pleasure is mine.
I want her bond. My teeth ache to sink into her, but I won’t take her until she asks. We’ve destroyed enough of her world.
Cyn strains, and I can feel the wonder, the dark, obsessive hunger in him. He wants to hunt her through a city, in a forest. In the dark, the daylight. He wants the thrill of her fear, but he craves the happiness.
And it confuses him. It scares him, but he’s so smitten he can’t do anything but give in. I don’t think she realises how completely we are hers.
Is there a part of her that’s still resisting? Still hidden away so we can’t hurt her? Probably. But we’ll dig it out and teach her that, to us, she is our entire world.
Vale strokes her hair, and I realise he’s staring at me, peering through the bond at my thoughts. I feel his warm acceptance, his agreement.
When Cyn knots her, he clenches his teeth, his head slamming back into the couch, and he cries out. Bonnie wraps around him, clinging to him like he’s her everything.
Tomorrow, I think. Tomorrow we’re going to talk about bonds. An eternity passes as my thoughts unravel.
Cyn lifts her off his knot, and she collapses to the side with a muffled laugh.
“Do I get to run again?”
“Not a chance. On your knees,” Rory says.
He’s gone into that dark version of himself. I expect her to protest, but instead, she slides off the couch and kneels before him.
“Good omega,” he hisses.
He starts stroking his cock, long, deep, fast strokes.
“I’m going to mark you now. Make sure every alpha can smell that you belong to me.”
“You’re wrong, Alpha. I don’t belong to you,” she says calmly.
Rory’s tension gets more intense as he moves closer to her. “Oh, and who do you belong to, then?”
“You belong to me. You are mine. Mark me as you want, Alpha, let every idiot know that I am yours, but you will always know that you wear my chains.”
I gape at her. She’s utterly unrepentant, on her knees, standing before Rory in all his fury and evil and claiming him.
Amusement flickers through the bond, but a deep, deep hunger, too. With Rory, she meets him head-on, challenges him, is his equal. Nothing he does scares her. Cyn and she have this slightly more emotional connection than the rest of us, but I think that’s because Cyn is a little bit more in touch with his feelings. I don’t know what she is with Vale, but it’s something that feels like, together, they could take over the world if they wanted, half challenge, half promise.
But with me, she is a kindred spirit. My perfect match. A wolf.
Is she something each of us needed and is missing? Is that how scent matches work? But, no, I’ve seen them in the past, and they have failed miserably. Some have been so toxic and rotten that the people in the bonds were in misery.
Rory hisses as he nuts and sends cum shooting all over her face.
She doesn’t blink, doesn’t move other than to open her mouth and lick her lips.
I turn away, unable to watch because the urge to rush over there, drag her under me, and fuck her until we’re knotted is almost impossible to deny.
Rory yanks her up and uses his T-shirt to clean her face. “You are beautiful.”
I know he’s saying these words, but he means something else. We all do.
My whole self rocks as I realise what it all means. She’s our scent match, she’s our omega, she’s our match.
