Micah wraps his arm around me and finds my clit, circling in that slow, small-circles way he’s already figured out is my weakness. Before long, I’m a trembling mess between them, my thighs shaking from the effort of holding me up.
“Fuck, I’m gonna—“ Sean’s warning comes out strangled. “Regina, I’m?—“
I take him deeper, and he comes with a shout that’s probably too loud for a house this quiet. I swallow around him, working him through it, feeling his pleasure burst through the bond like fireworks. And the energy that flows into me replaces what I gave over to Villeneuve for the healing magic.
On the next thrust, Micah’s pace falters. I feel the press of his knot against my pussy, and clench around him instinctively, because my body wants something that I’m pretty sure is still physically impossible. At least without alotmore training.
He pulls back, not pushing all the way in. Making sure his knot doesn’t catch.
But even without the knot, Micah knows exactly how to work me. His fingers pick up speed as he strokes me, and he’s angled to hit just the right spot.
“Come on, pretty witch,” he murmurs. “Let me feel you come.”
I’m already there. Already tipping over the edge. Sean’s hand is still in my hair, stroking now instead of gripping, and Micah’s fingers are relentless on my clit, and the bond is amplifyingeverything, not just the energy flowing between us, and?—
I come with a gasp that’s muffled against Sean’s thigh, and I don’t know what comes over me, because I bite down on the inside of it. Not hard enough to break the skin, but enough that he cries out, and then?—
The way his cock twitches makes it clear it’s not from the pain. At least, not entirely.
“Fuck, Storm,” he groans, his head lolling back.
The orgasm rolls through me violently, my body clenching around Micah as he follows me over with a groan.
He spills inside me, hot and deep, and for a moment we’re all just breathing. The bond pulses, and fills me with fresh energy tinged with Micah’s sweet gingerbread flavor. Still weird how that works, but each of them has his own energetic flavor, as surely as his scent. It was subtle at first, but now that I’ve been siphoning from them for a while, each alpha’s energy has become more distinct.
Micah pulls out carefully and collapses onto the chaise beside Sean. I end up sandwiched between them, breathless and too tired to care about how much I need to shower.
“Damn,” Sean starts.
“Yeah,” Micah agrees. “Lot of things in this world that are overrated, but bonded sex isnotone of them.”
I laugh softly, wiping the corner of my mouth. “No, it’s not.”
I close my eyes, letting their warmth surround me.
Sleep pulls at me. I try to resist, considering there are still books to read and a cure to find, but my body has other ideas. The exhaustion of the day catches up all at once, and between one breath and the next, I’m gone.
The dream starts in darkness.
I’m running. Through trees and shadows, through a forest that smells like blood. My feet are bare and the ground is cold and somewhere behind me, something is hunting.
I know this dream. I’ve had it a hundred times since that night in the basement. The werewolf. The attack. The claws that carved my face into something I can’t stand to look at.
But this time, something’s different.
The forest opens into a meadow. The same meadow from earlier, I realize. The grass is still scorched in places, still stained dark with blood. Bodies lie scattered across the ground. Coven members, their robes torn and their faces frozen in expressions of terror.
And in the center of it all, a wolf.
He’s big. Massive, really. Shoulders like mountains, fur like midnight, teeth bared in a snarl that makes my blood run cold.
Run, my dream-self thinks.Run, run, run?—
But I can’t move. My feet are rooted to the ground, my body refusing to obey. The wolf stalks closer, each step intentional, and I can see now that there’s something wrong with it.
Something that just feelsoff.
Its movements are jerky and puppet-like, driven by something that isn’t quite instinct and isn’t quite thought.
