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I want his mark.
And I can’t fucking lie to myself any more.
Because I want them all.
I don’t dare say it out loud, but I kiss his jugular, reserving the spot where I’ll leave my bite.
Hunter’s purr hitches under my lips. “Never let you hurt again.”
I hmm into his pulse. “Maybe one more time.”
It’ll be the best kind of pain when they finally sink into my throat.
THIRTY-SEVEN
LILAH
Unease rattles me when Hunter walks away to solo-solve our gang war, but the four bodies that pile into his space quickly make up for the missing piece.
Sorry, Hunter.
They take turns feeding me takeaway french fries and chipotle ranch, Atlas muttering how he’s going to perfect homemade.
I want to sink into them and this moment, but the squeak in my veins won’t go away.
Maybe my heat’s too close.
Maybe it’s joy over Noelle’s demise.
But with Wyverns absorbing me into their fold, I can’t relax knowing Dom’s out there, waiting to take this away before I even get to know what it’s like to be happy.
I try to stand, but Finn and JJ each handcuff an ankle.
They sit at my feet, shooting each other serial killer glares that only fade when they tip their gazes up to me.
“Your nails are wet.” JJ picks up my foot to breathe cold air onto my toes.
I shiver at the chill.
Hell knows where they got polish, but they made me sit so they could paint me in their colors.
One foot’s neon orange, the other cherry blossom pink.
Finn grins over the spiked collar I put around his throat. His nostrils flare. “Not the only thing that’s wet, Starsnatch.”
I jerk my foot away, jumping onto the couch so fast, Orion tips, but he’s dying laughing.
“Banned!”
Finn’s eyes burn, emerald and mischief. “Starcun—”
“No!” Barf. No. Why? I grip my temples. “I need to look at spreadsheets.”
“Why spreadsheets when we could be spreading your—”
I mush Finn’s lips with my wet, orange toes.
Orion fucking roars, clutching his stomach, kicking his feet on the couch.
