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Amora
This time, when I slip into the dream I have nearly every night, I know it’s a dream, because I vividly remember curling up on my pile of brush in the cave to fall asleep.
The bed in my dream is luxurious in comparison. It feels like I’m drifting atop fluffy clouds that cradle every inch of my naked body as the three gorgeous shifters surround me. Frost’s lips are hot and warm on my neck, while Malix’s deft fingers and tongue tease my breasts until they’re flushed and sensitive.
Kian crawls up my body, hovering over me, gazing down with those mesmerizing eyes that flicker like fire. His thick, hard length presses between my legs, and I reach for him breathlessly, desperate to have him inside me. I want them all inside me, all three of them consuming me at the same time, breaking me apart into my individual atoms until I’m nothing but sensation.
Nothing but theirs.
I wake suddenly, my eyes blinking open to take in the thick darkness around me and the dull, dying orange glow from the embers of the fire. An icy chill is creeping in from beyond the mouth of the cave, although I’m still warm inside from the dream.
Every night.
Every damn night, I dream of my mates.
Even after the mate bond was broken, they still kept haunting my dreams, and I don’t think there’s anything I can do about it. Not even being here in this cave with them can keep them out of my subconscious mind.
Something moves above me, snapping me out of my foggy, sleepy thoughts.
I sense only the smallest disturbance on the air, and then a waft of whiskey and woodsmoke tickles my heightened sense of smell. Raising my gaze, I find Kian in his human form standing above me. He drops down into a crouch beside me, hovering so close that I can see the glint of the fire in his eyes.
Desire blossoms within me so quickly and so brutally it feels almost painful, like getting hit by a speeding car.
I yip and leap to my feet, head butting him in a vain attempt to shove him away. I’m strong as a wolf, but still not bigger or stronger than him. When he doesn’t even budge—or react at all—I stalk away from him, growling low in my throat.
Things are still tense between us. Something shifted between me and Malix last night, and my relationship with Frost has definitely improved since our encounter back at the cabin, but when it comes to Kian, I still harbor so much resentment that I might as well be drowning in it.
I disappear into the darkness outside and move quickly away from camp, needing distance from him. The sky is black, stars glittering above. I have no idea what time it is, but the deep darkness around me tells me dawn is still a long way off.
My wolf squirms and yips inside my mind, snarling at me to turn back, to go back to Kian, to claim him.
That didn’t work out so well last time, I remind that side of me, then call on my magic to shift away from the screeching canine. The moment I’m in human form, bare skinned in the cold night, my thoughts level out and I get better control of my emotions. It’s like taking a cold shower, minus the water.
My teeth clench, and I press my lips together as I drag in a breath through my nose. I don’t like the way my body reacted instinctively the moment I woke up and saw Kian’s face hovering so close to mine. So much time has passed since the night we shared—it makes me crazy how he still affects me.
I’m halfway to the stream when I realize he’s followed me. Kian moves like a shadow even in his human form, as if he’s made of nothing and everything all at once.
But that scent… I’ll always recognize it on the breeze anytime it comes close.
I whirl on him, planting my hands on my hips. “Typically, when someone walks away from you, that means they want space.”
He steps out of the darkness, moving with the seductive ease of a predator stalking its prey. The shadows deepen his scar and make his gold-ringed eyes glitter like the dying fire back in the cave. His face is several days past need of a shave, and his dark hair is shaggy and mussed, giving him a caveman kind of vibe that does interesting things to my libido.
Goddamn libido.
“We need to talk,” he rumbles, walking right up to me, toe to toe and in my personal fucking space.
“No, we don’t. I left the cave because I wanted to be alone,” I argue, crossing my arms over my chest. “But clearly, you don’t know how to read the room.”
He ignores me and barrels on as if I didn’t even speak at all. “I heard what Malix said to you. The thing about changing the future the witch saw, the one where you die.”
“Where you destroy me,” I point out bitterly.
“He can’t guarantee you safety,” Kian goes on. “He has no right to promise you that.”
I eye him, my lips pressing together as it occurs to me the statement he’s referencing wasn’t something Malix mentioned over dinner. Then I recall exactly at what moment Malix did say that to me.
While we were still naked and wrapped in each other’s arms, lost in the post-sex glow.
Furious, I shove Kian hard, both of my palms slapping against his bare chest. “What the hell, you asshole! You need to stop spying on me when I’m fucking your friends.”
Kian’s response is immediate and violent. His hand shoots up to grip my shoulder, propelling me backward with a controlled movement that catches me by surprise. He doesn’t release me, either; he simply continues shoving, his fingers digging into my bare skin, until I slam into the rough bark of a tree.
My bare back scraping against the nodules and sharp edges hurts a little, but goose bumps rise up all over my body, and an unbidden flush of arousal surges through me. He has me boxed in, one hand still hard on my shoulder, the other in a fist against the trunk next to my face.
I feel like I’m dancing in front of an open flame, dragging my fingers through the fire and hoping it won’t burn me.
Kian’s anger is a dangerous thing. It billows from him like smoke, and his tattoos begin to wave restlessly as he leans in closer, his voice dropping. “Maybe you need to stop fucking my friends.”
I press back against the tree, arching my back as I give him a lazy, knowing smile. The way he’s standing so close makes it easy for me to brush his skin with my nipple, teasing him. Taunting him. Too bad my body also reacts to the motion. That small caress makes heat pool between my legs.
“What’s wrong?” I murmur. “You jealous?”
His jaw clenches, and he punches the tree beside my head. My heart leaps into my throat at the hard crack of his knuckles hitting the bark, and my breaths go shallow.
But before I can say anything or shove him away from me, he grabs my chin roughly with his other hand and crushes his lips to mine in a fierce kiss.
No. That’s not the right word for it.
It’s not just a kiss.
It’s a combustion.
It’s a mad rush into oblivion.
He shoves a knee between my legs and pins me against the tree, his kiss bruising, his teeth scraping my lips. His intensity is like a drug that goes straight to my head. I cling to the back of his neck and lose myself in him for a moment, forgetting about all the reasons why this is a really bad idea. All the reasons why I hate him—or should hate him, at any rate.
