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ONE
Asha
A good shower cleanses the mind as well as the body. One settles into a meditative state that holds the magical power to break destructive loops. At least that’s how it works for me. And right now, that’s exactly what I need. The stream of water draws my thoughts out from the corners in which they’ve stubbornly lodged themselves. It’s as if the heat and steam soften my brain, providing a chance to reshape itself.
Even if only a little.
I’m in another shitty motel bathroom, but the continuous stream massaging my neck and shoulders does its job almost as well as it would at a five-star resort. The knots begin to loosen. Anger melts into resolve. Fear sublimates into focus. Needling doubts drown in the static of cascading water.
A small measure of tension eases from my body and I start to relax. With the relaxation comes clarity. In the background of my thoughts I feel the hum of magic, ever present within me. Why haven’t I succumbed to that dark magic? I think of my pack members who became rabid after the experiments conducted by the Blood Mages. Could Orson’s theory be correct? Might I spare myself their terrible fate by only using my magic for good? Every passing day, it gets easier to quell the voice inside telling me to lash out. I think I might be mastering my magic.
Maybe.
But I fear I’ll have to use it for violence soon. My brother Simon is lost, and I can’t let him continue his murderous rampage. Things have changed as I’ve realized who he’s become. I regret not killing him the first time I came across him when he’d encased an entire town with his black magic, using his magic to feast on the innocent people. But back then, I thought he could still be saved.
Until he killed and killed again. Until I realized there was nothing I could do to pull him back from the edge. The boy I loved, my best friend, my family is gone. I can’t keep allowing others to die to protect the ghost of my brother.
So, I’ll have to kill him. One more use of dark magic for ill, then no more. It’s not worth the cost to my soul. Maybe I won’t even need it then, if I’m capable of putting Simon down without relying on the Blood Mages’ terrible gift.
The more I think about killing my brother, the more at ease I am with it. Because the truth of the matter is, he’s already dead. What’s left of him is trapped within a pitch-like mass of hate, gradually eroding his mind, making space for its wicked designs. I won’t be killing Simon. I’ll be setting him free.
I’m at peace with that now.
A deep breath of steam reawakens me. Water beads on my flesh, streams in rivulets along my naked body. I’ve become so comfortable in my skin since taking up with the boys. They’ve allowed me to forgive myself and accept pleasure again. Something I never imagined I’d be able to do.
A smile touches my lips as I think about them. Max Blackwell, the stoic, whose steely facade belies a caring heart. His brother, Braxton, with a rugged exterior shielding his deep well of passion. Twins cut from the same cloth, their tangled emotions unknotted by my delicate touch. And then there’s Orson, boyish and buoyant, yet also thoughtful and smart, whose wits are matched by sexual prowess.
Together, my three men have given me something I thought I’d never feel again: a sense of belonging. They quiet the storm that rages inside me. And maybe I quiet the storm within them too.
If refraining from the use of magic for dark purposes keeps me from becoming a monster like my pack-mates, then Max, Braxton, and Orson can take credit for my restraint. Without them, I would have given into the shadows a long time ago. Without them, I’d have forgotten there was anything in life outside of my own guilt.
A light rapping on the bathroom door distracts me from my reverie. “Yep!” I call out.
The door creaks open and a presence enters. Eddies of steam curl away from the brawny figure whose silhouette I instantly recognize as Braxton. He’s wearing a gray t-shirt and jeans, both of which hug the hard muscles of his body in a way that’s almost sinful. He passes through the cloud of steam to open the shower door. I stand naked before him, and his enormous frame dwarfs my petite one.
“Any updates?” We know where my brother is going, but where is he now? Can we catch him before he reaches the party that the Blood Mages will be at? Before he unleashes his magic and likely kills many innocents?
He shakes his head, responding only to the question I asked aloud. “Nothing.”
I nod, relaxing. Right now, no news is good news. “Then, what’s up?”
His gaze scans my form, and I suddenly know exactly why he’s here. “Mind if I join you?” he asks, leaning an arm on the wall, trying to look casual, and failing miserably.
Did I mind? Not one bit. Whether he wants to be sexy or just be close to me, I crave him. I crave his closeness and his touch. I crave the way my dark thoughts ease with his presence.
“But I hope you don’t intend on coming in here with all those clothes on,” I tease, trying not to get excited at just the thought of him joining me in the shower.
He smirks while disrobing. The clothes peel away from his muscular form, and my eyes drag along his front to rest on his cock. He’s already sprung, which doesn’t mean much when it comes to what’s about to happen. I’m starting to think this boy is excited every time I’m around, whether we’re eating lunch or ready to fuck.
Catching the direction of my gaze, his smile widens. “Care to soap me up?” he asks, stepping into the tub.
“If I have to,” I tell him playfully, my voice already husky with excitement.
He leans down as the water runs over his black hair, wickedness flashing in his pale blue eyes. Then he nips my bottom lip, and my wolf practically purrs like a cat within me.
I take the bar of soap and begin at his pecs, snaking my way down his body until I reach his pelvis. I pause, rolling my eyes up to his. He’s watching me, eyes half-lidded, his dick practically jumping in excitement at my touch. But I don’t want to make it that easy for him.
Standing taller, I give a sweet smile. “First, my hair?”
