Gentle and constant, weaving with Court’s, tying him to me in a way that feels just as real. Just as necessary.
I feel him—dimples and devotion and quiet strength—settling into his space in my soul.
Piers.
I’m grinning before I even open my eyes to search out my beta. He’s already looking at me, a tender expression on his face. “I can feel you,” he murmurs, awed, voice choked. “I didn’t think I would, not like this, but little bird, I canfeelyou.”
I nod, tears forming in my eyes. “I can feel you too, dimples. Right next to Court.”
His thumb brushes against the edge of his bite, making me flinch, just slightly. And he frowns. “I’m sorry it had to hurt so much.”
“I’m not,” I lean forward and kiss him slow and deep, tasting copper on his tongue. “It’s just a reminder that we chose this, Piers. We chose each other, to mark one another, to claim one another, even though it hurt. Makes it a little sweeter, don’t you think?”
Grieves shakes his head and mutters something that sounds like “bloody perfect” as Piers kisses me again.
“Thayer, Grieves, you’ll bond her together.” Sythe’s decisive voice cuts through my fog, making my nipples pucker further and a shiver work its way over my body.
“But-” Thayer starts, but the prince is having none of it, cutting him off.
“We can argue about it, or we can give our mate what she wants as quickly as possible. If you're concerned about the toll this is taking on her physically, then I suggest we finish this, so that we can see her comfortably settled and resting.”
My lips twitch into an amused smile. “I like that idea. Even if I’m a little offended that you’re talking about getting this over with.”
Sythe makes a little growling hum, then says. “Court, bond with our beta again. This time bite him where everyone will see.”
That has my eyes flying open, just in time to see Court lunge at Piers and wrestle him into the mattress, taking his mouth in a searing kiss. A fresh wave of slick pours from me, making my perfume thicken in the air.
“You like that, omega?” Thayer asks, sounding weirdly analytical given the situation. “Fascinating,”
I let out a breathy laugh, as I shift onto my hands and knees. “Of course you would find that fascinating. You’re unbelievable,” I tell him, crawling toward him.
“And yet,” he says softly, eyes dark as they trace over my face, my naked body, “you chose me anyway.”
“I did.I do. Stop thinking so hard,” I murmur, pressing my hands to his chest as I straighten. “Just be here. Please. I need you, professor.”
Something in him shifts at that.
The control loosens.
His hand slides to the back of my neck, mirroring Court, grounding me in a different way. More deliberate, more focused.
“I am here,” he says quietly. “Entirely yours.”
His kiss is deeper, more consuming—not rushed, but intense, like he’s finally letting himself feel everything he’s been holding back.
My breath catches, my body arches into him without thought, needing to get closer to him, to them. My nipples pebble harder against his chest. He groans into my mouth and I swallow the sound, letting it reverberate through me. Voicing my own whimper in response.
He pauses, pulls back, breathing heavy, hands flexing where they grip me like he’s holding back from taking and taking and taking.
I love that I have this effect on him. That I can make this analytical alpha lose his control. Or at least almost lose his control. He’s not quite there yet, but he will be.
The bed dips and shakes. The sharp scent of a thunderstorm surrounds me.
Grieves doesn’t ask.
He doesn’t hesitate.
One second I’m catching my breath from Thayer’s soul searing kiss, and the next I’m pulled back against him, his arms locking around me, his presence overwhelming in the best possible way.
