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They stare at me so hard, my tremble ratchets.
So does my scent.
The alphas lean forward on their knees. Atlas starts to hummmm this gravelly rumble that’s better than a magic wand.
My attention slips to my gooey center.
I’m melting by the second.
Almost time to borrow their magic wands.
“One thing.” I climb from Orion’s lap into Atlas’s arms and press his neck, nuzzling his lust-spiked musk. “Stop calling me Darling.”
“Lilah Wyvern.” Atlas smooths my back. His thumb digs between my vertebrae, making me twitch so good, I think he’s melting my spine.
Hunter climbs to the couch and sandwiches me into Atlas.
Dominance and lust.
Smoke and musk.
My eyes lose focus. I make a happy pant, fingers kneading their T-shirts. “So? Who’s biting me first?”
Hunter smiles against my ear. “The pack leader—”
“Is Hunter,” Atlas rumbles.
“At. No. You’re more dominant and—”
“And it’s not a problem if I don’t challenge you. Which I won’t.” Atlas claps his shoulder. “My omegas need my full-time attention. You can do the paperwork.”
Hunter groans, but then his arms tighten around my waist. He tears me from Atlas and lifts me high, softly kissing my collarbone. “Worth it.”
I squeeze his neck, more lethargic by the moment, and rub my nose against his collar. “When do I get to taste your tattoos?”
“Right the fuck now.” He sprints so fast, I squeal, grabbing on as he rockets to my nest.
Our nest.
My belly warms.
It’s a much more gentle heat than before. Not a snapping, clawing, scary kind of pain, but a soft…unspooling.
Like all the fears and doubts that kept me so wrapped up and restricted are finally falling free.
Because I’m safe.
I’m protected.
And I’m about to be fucking worshipped.
FORTY-EIGHT
LILAH
Hunter carries me into the dim, cozy nest. The pulse between my legs pounds so fast, it’s like a clitoral heart attack.
He spreads me on the mattress, then crawls to straddle my thighs, draping me in dominance and blooming smoke.
