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His hand came around to settle against the small of my back, and just like that, I was in his arms.

He searched my gaze with his own. “You’re so pretty, Leona.”

“You are too, Damian,” I said. Everything was effervescent, bubbling over. I felt so good.

He let out a little laugh. “Am I pretty?”

“Very pretty,” I said, teasing him, pressing my body against his. I felt his erection when I did. I let out a little gasp.

He grunted. He pulled me tighter against him. “Omega,” he said. It was the first time he’d called me that. It was instinctive for him, and it felt very right to me, and I liked it, and I actually whined.

My scent exploded in the air, and he was kissing me.

Our first kiss was frantic, open-mouthed, tongues tangled, grasping at each other—he had handfuls of my clothes, I squeezed and released his shoulders and his biceps—rubbing the whole lengths of our bodies into each other. We slid our hands into each other’s hair. I wrapped one of my thighs around his body.

He broke it, eventually, shoving me off of him, too hard. I collided with Vincent’s bed across the small room. I sat down on it, out of breath.

Damian was breathing hard, too. He was running his hand up and down the back of his head, down his neck, up, and then back down, making the hair on the back of his head stand straight up. “We fucked it up,” he gasped.

“No,” I said. “No, we did not.”

“It was supposed to be… slower,” he managed.

“We’ll do it that way next time,” I said. “It’s just my scent, from the heat.”

“You shouldn’t have come here, Leona,” he said. “You have to go.”

I knew that I did. “Okay.” I got up from Vincent’s bed. “Sorry.”

“I mean, you know, don’t be sorry.” He let out a helpless laugh.

I let out a giggle, something unbridled and free. “I’m not sorry, actually.”

“Yeah, good. Me either.”

I started for the door to the shed.

He stopped me. He kissed me again, one hard fierce close-mouthed kiss and then he pushed me away.

When I reached for him again, he shook his head. “Go.” It was an order.

I liked obeying him.

I remember that as I was shutting the door to the shed, Vincent was coming back from wherever he’d been, and he approached, wide-eyed. “I heard you were in heat,” he said to me. “I mean, you scent like…” He pushed past me and opened the door to the shed. “Are you kidding me? I have to sleep smelling this, you two?”

Damian was sprawled out on his bed, and he just laughed.

I laughed too. “Sorry, Vincent,” I said, and then I scampered off into the darkness, back to my own bed, where I wriggled my fingers between my thighs and made myself burst there while I thought about Damian calling me omega.

CHAPTER TEN

NOW, VINCENT AND I stood together at the edge of the woods and I squirmed a little. “It, um, it takes me a little while,” I said.

He was stripping off his clothes. “Okay.” In one fluid movement, he pushed down his jeans and underwear and his wolf flowed over him so quickly that I didn’t even see anything. He was a sleek brown wolf, bigger than a wild animal wolf might be, but roughly having the same mass as he had as a human.

He stood there, waiting.

“Turn around,” I said.