From behind me, Baylin makes a low sound…not quite a growl, but close.
“These are my mates,” I introduce. “Callum, Arkan, and Baylin.”
Prince Caspian manages a smile, bowing slightly. “Lady Snow White mentioned you had found your pack. She seemsgenuinely happy for you. She said you seem happy.” He hesitates. “If I may be honest, Your Majesty, the stories we heard about the Evil Queen… they don’t match the woman I see before me.”
“The Evil Queen is dead,” I answer quietly. “I’m just Hilda now. A queen, yes, but also an omega with her pack. And I want Snow White to have the happiness I’ve found.”
Prince Caspian bows again. “Then I will do everything in my power to give her that happiness, Your Majesty.”
“See that you do,” Callum rumbles, his first words since the prince entered. His voice carries clear threat. “Because if you hurt her, you’ll answer to us.”
“We protect ours,” Arkan adds.
Prince Caspian swallows hard. “Understood.”
I wave a hand. “You may go, Prince Caspian. Give Snow White my blessing and my love.”
He bows once more and retreats, clearly relieved to escape.
Ten
Arkan
I wake to the smell of slick and desperate need, and I know immediately what’s happening.
Our omega’s first heat since being claimed.
Fuck me.
Hilda is whimpering beside me, her body burning up, already soaked with sweat and arousal. She’s grinding against Callum in her sleep, seeking friction, seekingrelief.
“Fuck,” Callum groans, waking. “Is she…”
“Heat,” I confirm, already hard. “Her first real heat with us.”
Baylin stirs on her other side, inhaling deeply. His eyes snap open, blown wide with lust.
“Mine,” he growls.
“Ours,” I correct, though my wolf is screaming the same thing.
Hilda’s eyes flutter open. They’re glazed, unfocused, pupils blown. Then clarity hits and sherecoils.
“No.” Her voice is hoarse. “No, I don’t…I can’t…”
“Shh, we’ve got you.” Callum reaches for her and she scrambles back.
“Don’t touch me!” She’s panting, pressing herself against the headboard. “I don’t want this. I don’t want to need you like this.”
But even as she says it, her thighs are clenching together. Slick is pouring down her legs. Her scent isscreamingfor us.
“Your body disagrees, omega,” I observe, moving closer.
She tries to slap my hand away but she’s weak, shaking. “I hate this. I hate that I can’t…that I need…”
“Need us,” Baylin finishes, grabbing her ankle.
She kicks at him. “Let me go!”
