“The best.” He rolls his hips up. “Though I plan to make many more.”
Finn plasters himself against Kieran’s back. Starts kissing his neck.
“Room for one more?”
“There’s always room for you.” Kieran reaches back, tangles his hand in Finn’s hair. “Get the oil.”
My brain whites out for a second. “Wait—are you going to—”
“Only if you want to watch.” Kieran’s golden eyes gleam. “Do you want to watch, Kaia? Do you want to see Finn fuck me while I’m inside you?”
I can’t speak. I just nod.
Finn’s grin is incandescent. “Best anniversary ever.”
It’s overwhelming.
Kieran inside me. Finn inside Kieran. The three of us moving together in a rhythm that’s somehow perfect despite its impossibility.
“Fuck,” Finn gasps. “He’s so tight. Kaia, you should feel—”
“I can feel it.” Through the bond. Through the way Kieran’s movements go ragged. Through everything. “Keep going.”
Malrik and Torric appear on either side of me. Hands everywhere. Mouths. Malrik’s fingers pinching my nipple while Torric’s teeth scrape my shoulder.
“Touch her,” Malrik instructs Torric. “She’s close.”
Torric’s hand slides between me and Kieran. Finds my clit.
“Come,” Malrik orders. “All of you. Together.”
We do.
The orgasm crashes through all seven of us. The bond explodes. For one perfect, blinding moment, we’re not seven separate people — we’re one. Connected. Complete.
Like the Gate, but made of pleasure instead of souls.
Like the alignment, but made of love instead of magic.
Like home.
Bodies are everywhere. The bed was absolutely designed for this, and we’re still tangled in ways that can’t be comfortable but somehow are.
Kieran has me tucked against his chest, his face buried in my hair. Finn is sprawled across Malrik’s lap, half-asleep already. Aspen is doing something complicated with a cooling charm that makes everyone sigh in relief. Torric is starfished across the bottom of the bed, taking up way more space than necessary. Darian is curled against Kieran’s other side, their fingers loosely intertwined.
“Same time next year?” Finn mumbles. The same thing he says every year.
“Every year,” Kieran responds. The same thing he says back. “For as long as we live.”
“That’s a lot of years.”
“I know.” He presses a kiss to my hair. “I’m looking forward to every single one.”
The bond hums. Warm. Quiet. Whole.
Mouse appears in the doorway. Stares at all of us with ancient, judgmental eyes.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I tell him. “You knew what this weekend was.”
