I’m sprawled on my back, limbs loose, a lazy grin plastered on my face. My hand is still sticky from her, and I can’t help but bring my fingers to my nose, inhaling the perfect, musky scent of her release mixed with mine.
God, she’s a masterpiece.
Colter’s a heavy, breathing weight on top of Brylee, his massive frame covering her completely. His knot is still locked inside her, a biological chain that won’t break for a while yet. His mask is slightly askew, and from my angle, I can see the corner of his mouth twitch in what passes for a smile for him.
Luka leans against the padded white headboard, looking utterly debauched but still managing to appear sophisticated, his suit jacket discarded on the floor. Ridge, now dressed, is in an armchair past the end of the mattress, his leg propped up, his eyes soft as he watches our omega.
“You did so good, Princess,” Luka murmurs, his voice a low, soothing rumble. He reaches out and smooths a stray piece of hair from her damp forehead. “So perfect for us.”
“The best,” Ridge adds, his voice gruff with emotion. “Our good girl.”
Brylee makes a soft, contented noise, a little hum of pleasure that goes straight to my cock all over again. She’s nestled against Colter’s chest, her body pliant and sated.
This is it. This is heaven. Four alphas, our omega, the scent of completion in the air. Nothing could ruin this mo?—
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The sound is sharp, violent, completely out of place. It’s not the hesitant rap of a servant; it’s a demanding, peremptory pound that saysI own this place, and you will answer to me.
Every muscle in the room tenses. Colter lets out a low growl, his arms tightening protectively around Brylee. Ridge is already trying to sit up straighter, his hand going to his side where he’s wounded. Luka’s easygoing expression vanishes, replaced by sharp, calculating alertness.
Brylee freezes. I feel her panic spike, her scent souring with a sudden, sharp burst of fear. Her eyes fly open, wide and terrified.
“No,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “No, no, no…”
“Where is Princess Brylee?” a woman’s voice calls from the other side of the door. It’s cold, imperious, and dripping with disdain. The queen. Brylee’s mother. The Royal Bitch herself. “I know she’s in there. Open this door at once.”
Brylee’s whole body starts shaking.
“She can’t see me like this,” she chokes out, her gaze darting between the four of us, wild and desperate. “She can’t?—”
“Hey, hey, look at me,” I say, rolling off the bed and landing on my feet in a smooth, silent motion. I’m already grabbing my jeans from the floor. “It’s okay, Princess. I’ve got this.”
“Kylian, no,” Ridge starts, but I wave him off.
“Relax, fearless leader. I’m just going to have a little chat.” I pull my shirt over my head, the fabric sticking slightly to my skin. I shoot Brylee my best, most unhinged grin, the one that sayseverything is fine, and I am definitely not about to start a bloodbath. “I’ll take one for the team. Send her on a wild goose chase. You guys just…stay busy.” I wink at Colter, who is still glaring daggers at the door. “Don’t move.”
I slip out of the room, closing the heavy nesting door softly behind me. The queen stands in the entryway, her back ramrod straight, dressed in a severe, tailored pantsuit that probably costs more than a small car. Her blonde hair is pulled back so tightly it looks like it hurts. Her eyes, the same cold blue as Brylee’s but devoid of any warmth, narrow as I approach.
“You,” she says, her voice dripping with condescension as she looks me up and down.
I can see the exact moment her nostrils flare. She smells it. The heat. The sex. The pack. She knows exactly what we were doing. The thought almost makes me laugh.
“Where is my daughter?”
“Your Highness,” I say, giving her a sloppy, insincere bow. “Fancy seeing you here. Brylee’s a little…tied up at the moment.”
I can’t resist the pun.
Her lip curls in disgust. “Do not test my patience, boy. I demand to see her. Now.”
“And she’d love to see you, I’m sure,” I chirp, keeping the grin plastered on my face. “But she’s…indisposed. Very important royal business. Can’t be disturbed.”
The queen scoffs, a short, ugly sound. “Indisposed? I can smell what kind of ‘business’ she’s conducting from here.”
She takes a step closer, invading my space, trying to intimidate me. It’s cute.
“I always knew she was weak. Letting her base instincts control her like this. It’s unbecoming of a princess.”
