“Now, Riley—come for us,” Rafe growled as he drove into her and let go, coming so hard he saw stars.From the roar Dorian let out, it was clear he had been carried with them, and the muffled cry from their mate and the frantic clench around him told Rafe she had been thrown into the same blinding release.
Rafe swore and slumped against her as Dorian fell to the side.All three of them lay there for long moments, catching their breath.Later, when the world had settled enough for Dorian to bring a warm cloth and their breathing had found a shared rhythm again, Rafe lay with her back to his chest, one hand over her heart, listening to the quiet between them like it was something sacred.
“I will spend the rest of my life earning this,” Dorian said softly from where he lay in front of her, her face pressed into his chest.
Rafe brushed his thumb over Riley’s skin, emotion thick in his throat.“Every day.”
A hunt lay ahead.Danger, too.But for the first time, the future did not feel like something to survive.
It felt like something they were about to build—with the woman they loved, with the bond that had finally, unmistakably, come into its own.
****
Christian waited inthe dark beyond the spill of security lights, the building’s hard edges rising in front of him like a challenge that had already lost.
This was where they were holding her.
He stood with one hand on the hood of the vehicle, coat collar turned up against the cold, eyes never leaving the structure.The plan was complete in his head—clean, inevitable.She would be his.And when she was, they would rule the world that had tried to cage them both.
Footsteps approached.One of the eight stopped at his side, breathing too fast.The man’s muscles jumped beneath his skin as if they couldn’t decide where to settle, sweat slicked his temples despite the chill.A flawed design.Not all of them could be gods.
Christian studied him for a moment, then smiled.
“You’re my best fighter,” he said lightly.
The hybrid straightened, chest swelling at the praise.The spasms eased, replaced by a feral focus.He nodded once, eager.
“Good,” Christian murmured.“Tomorrow when we strike, you’ll go first.”
The man moved off at a run, hunger for impact written in every step.
Christian watched him go, a thrill cutting through the cold.This was going to be fun—pitting his creations against the E.S.E., the entity he had once feared.
But fear was a luxury of the past.
By tomorrow night, his mate would be in his arms.
