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Leith’s red gold beard twitched as he smiled down at me. “It was bad for me at first too and I only had two other people to deal with, so I’m going to tell you how to separate and block them.
“I want you to close your eyes and imagine each of us as colored threads,” he continued, his voice soft and melodious, almost hypnotizing. “Once you can see it in your mind, I want you to very slowly separate them into their own streams until there’s no mixing.”
With a sigh, I let my eyes drift shut, starting with the alpha in front of me.
Somehow he was the easiest to place. Leith was green, like a forest that has been standing untouched for a thousand years.
As if by magic, the tangled mass of emotions in my body changed, green bleeding through the threads until I was able to identify what was coming from him.
Worry, affection, anxiety, and hope. I mentally pulled each green string free from the center and set them off to the side until I’d picked them all out.
Then I moved on to Artie. With a small smile I realized that he was pink—the color of a fresh blush like the one he’d had during his heat. From him I could feel a lot of guilt, but also a satisfaction that mirrored my own.
At the end of the day I’d wanted to be his and he’d wanted to be mine. We’d both known the risks when I stepped into that shower.
I was glad not to find any sort of regret as I organized his end of the bond.
Finally, I reached the third person in my head, the one I knew the least about. Enzo wasn’t angry at me, I could understand that much, but he was angry in general.
Protective, loyal, and a bit disappointed in himself, Enzo’s threads turned a deep shade of blue, and I realized, accounted for the majority of the emotions that were pummeling into my psyche.
They were all knotted up, like he was refusing to let go of them.
Stubborn, my mind provided and I could feel my lips pull up into a wry smile.
Never did I think I would end up in a pack with Enzo Santoro. Kiss in the closet aside, we’d butted heads any chance we got and I had a feeling that wouldn’t change just because we were a part of the same pack now.
He liked to argue, and so did I which didn’t bode well for us.
“Enzo’s aren’t easy to pick apart,” I whispered as I tried in vain to untangle the ball at his end of the bond.
Leith laughed, his thumbs sliding up and down my cheeks. “That’s never going to change. Sometimes Enzo doesn’t even know what he’s feeling. You can leave that, are you done with the rest of us?”
I nodded. “What now?”
“Now, I want you to imagine building a mental wall, brick-by-brick, until those threads are blocked off for you.”
“What if I want to feel what you feel?”
“Then all it takes is removing a couple of bricks to let whatever you want in. You don’t have to be available to us all of the time, mo ròs, you are still your own person, bond or not.”
Once I was done building my mental wall, I flopped back with a sigh of relief. I was alone in my head again and all of the emotions in it were just mine.
“Can it be that easy?” I asked, finally opening my eyes to find his face directly in front of mine, our lips only an inch apart.
Leith’s green eyes darted down to my lips. “It’s all instinct. It shouldn’t be hard to control.”
“My instincts are always hard to control,” I confessed, thinking of the inner alpha that was constantly pushing me toward the pack and the handsome alpha that was far too patient with me. She was completely content and silent now, the bitch.
“Mine are too,” Leith said, and then his lips were on mine, devouring them with a hunger that took my breath away. It was the same electric feeling I’d gotten the first time we kissed so long ago, and a sigh slipped out of me as I wrapped my arms around his neck.
It was what I’d been waiting for ever since I ran into him outside of the club in Scotland earlier this year. The memory of our time together—time that I’d ruined by running away—had come back full force.
Each of the men kissed in different ways. Enzo’s kiss had been forceful, full of a burn of desire that had nearly fried me as he stole it in that closet.
Artie’s was soft, sweet, and a little bit unsure like he wasn’t sure what I would like, but wanted to kiss me anyway. The memory of it was still tinged with the haze of my rut.
Wiz’s kisses were full of the promise of forever. Like he was renewing a vow to me each time he dropped his face to mine. Each kiss was punctuated by the curl of a smile as he pulled me in for more.
