Apollo shoots me a half-smile like I just figured something out. “Not really.” He turns to run a hand around my waist, pulling me against his chest. It’s such a pity he got his shirt back. I didn’t mind touching his hot, muscled body. “My clan is large. We wouldn’t fit here, so we take turns visiting.”
“It’s a holiday house,” I offer, and he nods.
“Precisely.”
“What about you, Ren?” I call over my shoulder, and the wolf shifter closes the distance between us in one stride. He smiles down at me, eyes wide and bright, his arm brushing mine. “Where do you live?”
“Around,” he answers off-handedly. “My pack was attacked when I was twelve. I lived further south with my sister until a couple of years ago.”
“Witches?” asks Apollo.
Ren nods. What a precise guess. Do witches hate shifters or something? I reach out to touch his arm. “What about your sister? Won’t she miss you?”
That sadness I saw in him earlier flashes across his eyes again. “She passed away. I think. I’ve been looking for proof, you know? To get over it.”
Shit. “I’m so sorry, Ren.” His slick black hair falls down from his shoulders to his chest, and I raise my hand to run my fingers through it. He lets me, leaning into my touch. He doesn’t look older than me. I can’t believe he’s been through that.
“A packless wolf?” Apollo’s upper lip curls. “Shit. That must be tough.”
I keep stroking his hair. “You know, you don’t need to stick around. If you need to look for your sister…”
“No way. I’m staying.”
“Why?” Donatello asks, eyes bright under the shadow of the flannel shirt Ren gave him. “I get you’re called Ren, and you smell like wolf shifter. And I get you helped Cassandra find us. What I don’t get is why you’re still here.” The words are sharp, but Donatello’s voice is anything but. He sounds curious.
“Cassandra’s my true mate,” Ren answers with a huge, proud smile that makes my stomach flip. Crap, could he get any cuter?
“Oh,” Donatello mouths, and I can’t read his face before he turns back to face the trail.
I snap my eyes to Apollo. He’s been the most difficult one about this. And, as expected, he bares his teeth, narrowing his eyes. “No fucking way, pup. She’s my mate.”
Ren shrugs. “I don’t mind,” he adds, making me laugh. “It is what it is.”
We walk a stretch of empty land, trees, and bushes, and I descry another cabin in the distance. Apollo lists all the reasons I can’t be Ren’s mate because I’m already his, but all of them are things Ren shakes off. The fact I have some sort of unique magic apparently explains everything. Both have heard of mages with more than one true mate. Apollo knows of dragonesses with over one, too. Once we reach the cabin, Ren has thrown every single argument Apollo shot his way out of the window.
Apollo grunts and he keeps on muttering under his breath as he helps me climb the front steps of the porch. I cross my fingers and hope for a fireplace. There’s nothing like reading under the covers in front of a fireplace, a bottle of wine next to me. That’s life.
The doorknob disappears under Apollo’s huge hand, and he opens the unlocked door with ease. It flings open, and we make our way inside.
“Don’t you guys lock your doors?” I ask him, perusing the place. Two couches that look like gray, fluffy clouds, a thick rug, and — I mentally punch the air — a fireplace. It looks clean but unused, like a hotel room.
Apollo puts the bags down, guides me to the couch, and helps me sit. “Not really. We have wards in place. You can only get in accompanied by a dragon, so anyone who crosses the borders is trustworthy. We don’t need to worry.”
“Ooh, that’s nice. I wish I had one of those wards back at my place. Then no weirdos would have broken in,” I shoot at Apollo, grinning. He grins back, bracing his hands to each side of my head and leaning so close I can taste his breath.
“You say it like you mind it, mate.”
“I did mind wrestling with a guy three times my size.” I snuggle onto the couch, looking up at him from between my lashes. “You know, I’m sore all over.”
Apollo’s dark eyes swirl golden, and the warmth seeping off him grows more intense. He licks his lips, and I follow the motion of his tongue, hunger knotting low between my legs. “If you weren’t hurt,” he says, lowering his voice to a murmur, “I would fuck you until you couldn’t walk for days, mate.”
Sheesh, that sets my panties on fire. The wetness running from me makes them slick, and I have to press my knees together, hoping he won’t smell how fucking needy I am. “Is that a promise?” I tease, knowing I’m walking a fine line.
Apollo smirks. “It is.” And then he pulls back, straightening to his full height. The bulge twitching in his pants doesn’t lie — he wants me too, and badly.
“Do you have ice?” I blurt out. “I need some ice.” Because the second my ankle is one hundred percent, I’m riding that dick. All this dance with Apollo is wearing me out. I need to taste him.
Apollo takes a deep breath, releases it with a low growl, then turns and walks out to what I guess is the kitchen. I hear him fumbling with something as the others take their spots around the living room. Donatello gives Ren his shirt back with a thanks, then takes the couch next to me. Ren sits to my left, knee brushing mine. It’s like he can’t stay away.