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“Tell me that you’ve got everything you need, that there’s no place in your heart for us. Tell me you don’t feel set alight every time your body brushes mine. Tell me that some beta guy…” —he swallowed hard, then carried on— “has your heart. That he’s what you need to be happy. Tell me it’s just gonna be me that goes to bed aching for something we were told we can never have.”

My eyes fell closed then, and it felt like I could feel every brush of my eyelashes as tears formed, matting them together.

Because I couldn’t say any of that.

There was a reason why I buried myself in my work, and it wasn’t one I thought too much about in the cold hard light of day. Going over and over something painful doesn’t help, it just cements those neural pathways, strengthening that feeling. So I focussed on what was good in my life, as if that were enough to gloss over what my heart knew.

I edged closer then, my mouth and his just hovering over each other’s before I darted in, letting my lips touch his, just for a second, a hopeless little groan escaping my throat.

It’s a terrible thing, when you’re forced to deal with an uncomfortable reality. I’d kissed a whole lot of men, searching, searching for something even a quarter as powerful as this. I didn’t know if it was just the emotional build-up of being essentially cock blocked all through high school by our parents and my designation or if it was just Fen, but…

This kiss hurt, like a knife stab to my heart. Old wounds I thought I had patched over were ripped open, emotion, sensation, everything swelling up, threatening to swallow me whole. I kissed him again and again, because there was no one to stop me, because he made this desperate little sound in the back of his throat when I did, because I fucking needed it. His taste was a drug, my tongue flicking out to slide against his, to capture it, before I jerked myself free and opened my eyes, and when I did, they were all there around me. I frowned, then shook my head at the sight of them.

They blocked my view of everything, made it all about them, them, them, and I couldn’t let that happen again. Honestly, I wasn’t sure I’d survive it. Because what I haven’t told you was how many nights I’d lain, sobbing, in my university accommodation.

Back at home, they’d made my life about them, filling every minute of it, and then it was all ripped away. No friendship, no relationship could ever fill the void that was left. No matter how well I got on with someone or how compatible I was, my heart was stubborn. It wouldn’t accept any substitutes. So I’d been forced to live without one.

“This was a mistake,” I said, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, needing to scrub Fen’s taste away. “I…”

I knew what I needed to do, I just didn’t want to, but I knew I had to force myself. I turned then, one last time, walking down the hall and out the front door, the chill of the night air welcome on my skin. I glanced at my car, wanting to take it home, but knowing I’d be stupid to do so, I shoved my keys deep in my pocket and started walking.

Every stride confirmed what I knew to be true, as every step took me farther and farther away from them. It hurt, fuck, it hurt, so much so I was forced to breathe through my clenched teeth, but I did it, walking down the main street of my suburb, past shops and takeaways, past crowds of people out for the night. Then I turned a corner and started up the hill to my place.

But I didn’t do it alone.

I turned once the sound of the main street died away, seeing those dark figures following a respectable distance behind, but close enough they could swoop in, look after me if anyone gave me a hard time. Just like old times. I shook my head and then put on speed, lengthening my stride. I walked faster and faster until she took over.

Run. The impulse was perfectly clear, my buttocks tensing, my stride lengthening.Run, she pushed at me, driven by some instinct I didn’t understand. So I started at a jog, but soon found my feet were flying over the pavement.Run, she insisted, even though that was what I was doing, her voice a persistent beat inside my head, along with the thud of my heart.Run and let them prove themselves worthy of catching you.

That slowed me down, but by that time, I’d reached my place—a little duplex buried in the suburbs. I threw my legs over the fence, then strode up my driveway, sucking in air, but they had no such struggles. As I fished my keys out of my pocket, I heard the little gate open and close, and then they came rushing toward me.

A hand slammed down on the screen door as I hurried to unlock it, their breath on the back of my neck, lifting the small hairs there until I was forced to turn around. The pack stared at me then with eyes that matched the moon behind them. A low whine started to rise in my throat, but I swallowed it down. Fen darted forward, breathing in my scent before smiling sharply.

“Don’t run from us, Red, not unless you want the big bad wolves to hunt you down.”

Keys were snatched from my lax fingers, one slotted into the lock before it was opened, then the front door. We spilled inside, shadowy figures in the darkness. I stumbled back, but they moved as one, herding me into the lounge room, not stopping until the backs of my knees hit the couch.

“Grab her a big glass of water and some painkillers,” Fen said, nodding to the others, who moved to do his bidding. Ryan placed a glass in front of me and then handed over a card of ibuprofen, watching to see me pop a couple and then swallow them. “You can head to bed now. We wanted to make sure you got home safe. Give Blake your keys, and he’ll run your car back here for you so you’ve got it in the morning, but, Riles?” Time felt like it ticked by then, so damn slowly. “You’re ours. You’ve always been ours, and we are done pretending that’s not true. One of us will come by your office tomorrow and pick you up for lunch.”

And without a fucking word from me, my keys were retrieved and then used to lock the door behind them, leaving me in an empty lounge room, not entirely sure what had happened.

I couldn’t seem to work out if I was disappointed or relieved to see them file out of my space, so I just shook my head, then drank down the water before taking the glass back to the kitchen.

Chapter 10

I couldn’t sleep for shit. Alcohol, while being a depressant, will make you feel tired, but often has the opposite effect on your sleep, but I knew it wasn’t the impact of the booze. Stripping down and slipping naked under the covers was something I did every night. But now? Somehow, it felt different, strange, almost decadent. I felt the cool cotton on my skin, and it didn’t take a huge amount of effort to imagine something else doing the same—big, masculine hands sweeping across my body, touching me in all the ways I’d thought about feverishly as a teenager and not allowed myself to do since.

God, the five of them walking in my door had brought everything back. Lying in my bed every night in the house I’d been born in, recalling everything that had happened that day. Not the school work I’d revised ruthlessly, nor the conversations I had with Mum, but them, always them.

I’d tried my damndest to stifle my responses, to not let them know what it did to me to feel them touching me, all those endless glancing little caresses that had made my skin sing. I’d frowned all the time, something they’d teased me for endlessly, while I’d hoped that kept them from knowing how I’d longed to lean back against their chests, bury my nose in their necks, have them hold me closer, so that the rest of the world was completely shut out and there was only them.

But when I did acknowledge things, once everyone had gone home and I was in my bed by myself, when I could set down the distant mask I fought so hard to maintain, what came rushing out? Need, want, desire so intense, it made it hard to breathe. With shuddering breaths, my hand slid down. Now, then, I found myself slippery with want for them, my fingers gliding over my skin until they unerringly found what I needed to be stroked.

Back then, I used to fantasise about one of them, pretending they were in my bed with me. Colt, Ryan, Blake, it would be their lips that trailed over my skin, making me shiver. It would be their fingers pushing inside me, curling up at just the right angle. So I guessed it shouldn’t have been a surprise when Haze landed on the bed, hanging over me. It wasn’t the real Haze obviously. He was much, much quieter for one. He just stayed there, his weight resting on his hands and knees, staring down at me.

“Is it my turn, baby?” he asked, then smiled lazily as he slowly studied me. “You gonna get that pretty little pussy off while I watch?”

“You do it,” I directed, able to be way more dictatorial with fantasy Haze than an actual alpha.


Tags: Sam Hall The Wolfverse Paranormal