Her Wolves: A Reverse Harem Romance

by Candace Wondrak

  Before Violet could respond to Ivy, the woman spun on her heel and walked away after setting the bundle of clothes on the bathroom counter. Violet let her go, closing the door and changing. After running her hands through her wet hair to untangle some of the knots, she ventured out, unsure of what she’d find.

  Unsure of what she’d say.

  What was there to say? Violet wasn’t good at expressing her feelings, not since Maria dumped her.

  She found Ivy acting busy in the kitchen—which was no more than a counter with a microwave and a mini-fridge—and Everett on the couch in the tiny living room. The TV was on across from him, as tiny and old as it was, and even though the screen was staticky, Violet felt herself grow more at ease. Amazing what TV could do.

  Her feet drew her to the couch, and she slowly sat beside Everett, who pretended not to watch her the whole time. Pointless, because Violet felt his eyes on her constantly. She looked at him, meeting his green eyes. Out of his brother and sister, his stare was the only one that wasn’t blue. His white hair was a little less white, a bit blonder than Ivy’s and Brice’s. The curse of being the middle child maybe? He was still just as ruggedly handsome as any shifter though, but he was gentle too.

  Violet felt her body heating up when she remembered him holding her in the car. It’d been nice, to feel like she wasn’t alone, like someone cared about her.

  “How are you?” Everett asked, moving to hold a pillow against his chest, as if he had to hold onto something. She could tell by the way he clutched the pillow he did his best not to lunge for her and hold her instead.

  She still couldn’t forget the way Iris had ripped Fletcher’s head apart directly above her—she had enough nightmare fodder to last a lifetime now—but she knew talking about it would only make her keep thinking about it. Best to move on, not to linger, so Violet said, “I’m okay. I’m alive and I’m out, which is more than I can say for the others.”

  As she spoke, she watched Ivy tiptoe out of the kitchen, heading into the bathroom to shower and finally change out of that gaudy dress.

  “I was worried about you,” he whispered, his voice a strange kind of light.

  Violet stared at him, and deep down, she knew he wasn’t lying or just saying that to try and make her feel better. This shifter had been worried about her…because his wolf wanted her. She remembered what Fletcher had said before forcing her and Brice together, and she couldn’t help but wonder what made her so special. Besides her hair, she really wasn’t special at all.

  Everett continued, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Violet, for bringing you there. I didn’t…” The shifter was at a loss for words, and strangely, she found it cute.

  She found him cute, chiseled face and all. Him being a man and all. Again—a fucking weird feeling, because even before she was with Maria, Violet had sworn off men because most of them were dicks.

  Violet found herself asking quietly, “Why does your wolf like me?”

  He smiled, and the simple gesture made her stomach flip like she was some prepubescent tween getting the attention of her crush for the first time. “Straight to the point, eh? I like it.” Everett quieted, his fingers toying with the corners of the pillow. “It’s hard to describe to someone who’s not a shifter. I just…I know.”

  That…did not exactly answer her question. “But why?” Violet prodded, leaning closer to him. When he wouldn’t stop fiddling with the pillow, she grabbed it from him, raising it in the air like she was about to hit him with it. “Tell me why, or I swear to God, I will attack you.”

  He chuckled. “I’m a shifter, you can’t attack me.”

  Violet wasn’t sure what she was doing, and she had no idea what she wanted Everett to say. She wanted to say she wasn’t a shifter, so she didn’t just know these things like he could, but it would’ve been a lie, because she knew.

  She just…she fucking knew.

  She couldn’t go back to her old life, not without these damned shifters at her side. Violet blamed Maia for all of this.

  “Want to bet?” Violet asked. “I think I could take you, as long as you don’t play dirty, like you did in that parking lot.” The one where he’d kidnapped her. God, she’d turned into one of those women, falling for her kidnappers. How stupid.

  Stupid, but she couldn’t change it.

  The very instant Everett’s face turned apologetic—something she knew would happen when she brought up the whole kidnapping incident—Violet whacked him on the side of the head with the pillow. The expression on his face when the dingy pillow hit him was hilarious, to say the least. She felt a giggle—a real, genuine giggle—bubble up her throat.

  Violet was about to hit again, but he caught himself, regaining his confident shifter demeanor, his large hand swatting the pillow right out of her grip, sending it tumbling to the floor. Before she knew what was happening, she was pinned to the wooly couch cushion beneath her.

  “This,” she whispered, staring up into his eyes, noticing how they flashed metallic, a wondrous emerald green, “is playing dirty, just so you know.” Violet knew she should get him off her, but she didn’t. She…actually liked being under him, feeling his strong body above hers.

  “Sorry,” Everett spoke, “I just…it just happened.” Still, even though it just happened, he made no moves to get off her.

  There was still some space between them, which let Violet run a hand over his chest, across the soft shirt he wore, eliciting a low rumbling in his lungs. A mix between a purr and a growl. Hmm. Maybe she was a kinkier bitch than she thought—she kind of liked the sound.

  “Why me?” Violet whispered, meeting his gaze. He was closer than he was a moment ago, his body pressed harder against hers. She felt small beneath him, shielded and protected from the world. It was a comfortable feeling.

  Everett spoke, moving his hands to the sides of her face, tangling his fingers in her wet hair, “Because you’re you.” A simple answer, one that didn’t reveal too much, but it was enough. It was all she needed to hear.

  Her eyelids fluttered closed, and it wasn’t but a moment before she felt lips press against hers, soft and hesitant. The hands gripping the sides of her face tilted her, allowing a better angle, and she ran her hands along his sides, tugging his body down harder on hers as his mouth drowned her in a kind of passion Violet thought was long behind her.

  What had been a gentle kind of kiss soon turned urgent, frantic and needy, as if Everett was afraid she’d leave, terrified he’d lose her. Violet let herself get lost in his lips, in the feeling of his muscled body above hers and the hard pressure of his hips grinding down on her. She pushed her tongue through his lips, desperate to taste him.

  He was so warm. So strong. So…manly, for lack of a better word. There was nothing about him Violet would change. He was perfect, and as much as she’d said she wasn’t anything like shifters, maybe she was—because she knew. Just like his answer to her, if he asked her something similar, she would say: because he was Everett.

  God, was it easy to lose herself in him. Violet barely had any thoughts; all she wanted was more.

  When their lips broke apart, both of them aching for a deep lungful of air, Violet let her instincts take over. These shifters always went on and on about how they let their wolves do the talking, how their wolves just knew things. Well, she could play that game, too. She might not have an inner wolf, but she had an inner freak.

  And that freak was horny.

  Violet pushed Everett aside, rolling them both off the couch and onto the floor. She straddled him, running her hands down his chest and then back up, only under his shirt. Feeling his skin on hers was…indescribable. It was hot. It was right in more ways than one.

  She thought about teasing him, thought about making a smart comment about how she didn’t know whether or not his wolf was into this, but Violet didn’t have the energy. A lie—she had plenty of energy; she just wanted to put it all towards one thing.

  Soon she had his clothes off, and then she worked on h
er own. Hers were much easier to slide off, since they were basically just a shirt and shorts. Everett’s pale cheeks were flushed, his chest rising and falling with ragged, hard breaths. Unsurprisingly, he was rock hard under her, and Violet continued to let her instincts guide her.

  Reaching down, she felt along herself, finding she was wet. She brought some of that wetness up to her clit before rubbing herself against his length, grinding along him to stimulate them both.

  Everett let out a low moan, leaning his head back but still trying to watch her. This had probably spiraled way out of the realm of possibilities he’d thought of, Violet knew, and honestly, she wasn’t sure what had taken her over. Having sex was the last thing she should be doing right now, the very last thing.

  But fuck, it felt good. Right. And now that they’d gotten started, she’d be damned if they stopped.

  After grinding against him for a few moments, she lifted her hips, allowing his dick to stand straight. Long, thick, and proud. Violet sank onto his length, inhaling sharply as he filled her. The feeling of a dick inside of her was not one she was used to, but it was far from the worst feeling in the world. Hell, right about now it was damn near the best.

  The shifter under her grunted, his hands grasping her sides as she started to rock back and forth, moving her body along him in a way she knew would bring them both pleasure. There was something about being on top that Violet liked, something about being in control she found intoxicating. Making Everett groan and close his eyes, fighting to watch as she rocked over him, feeling his fingers tightening on her skin, wordlessly asking her for more.

  Oh, she’d give him more. She’d give him more than he could handle.

  Violet increased her speed, making sure to lift herself along him nearly all the way before sinking back down and taking every inch of him in. Over and over she went, leaning over him, her wet hair falling in her face, but she dared not stop rocking on his dick, because she needed this release as badly as he did.

  She felt the pressure building in her lower gut, and she kept up the pace, working hard to bring them both to their apex, to the height of their pleasure. A moan escaped her as the sweet sensations of being one with someone rippled through her, touching every nerve in her body, giving her a type of high no drug could ever lend. Violet threw her head back, basking in the feeling of her orgasm, still feeling her inner walls clenching around Everett’s dick.

  Everett had his release soon. Watching her arch her back in ecstasy must’ve helped him along, for he groaned, his hips starting to rock under her. His grip on her sides tightened, and she could feel his dick throb inside of her, shooting his cum into her. It’d be a mess to clean up later, but right now she didn’t care.

  Violet fell against his chest, breathing hard and leaning her cheek against him. He was still inside of her; a part of her didn’t want to move her hips and lose the feeling of being one with him. It was…the best feeling in the world, a calmness she hadn’t felt in ages.

  Inhaling deeply under her, Everett found his voice, “Wow. That was…I didn’t think…” He stumbled on his words, and Violet shot him a look. The shifter’s dick was still inside of her; was he really going to finish that the way she suspected he was?

  “I like you, Everett,” Violet said. “I like you more than I should.”

  Hell—she liked them all more than she should. She wasn’t a shifter. She didn’t get to have her own little shifter harem…did she?

  Everett gave her a goofy smile, and Violet couldn’t take any more sappiness, so she got up. By the time Ivy came out of the shower, wearing her brother’s clothes, her long white hair damp and braided over her right shoulder, Violet and Everett were cleaned up and clothed, lounging on the couch like nothing had happened.

  Ivy eyed them both, moving to get water out of the mini-fridge. She leaned her hip on the counter, turning to stare at them. “You know I heard all that, right?” she asked before unscrewing the top of the water bottle and taking a huge sip.

  Exchanging glances with Everett, Violet wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. Should she apologize?

  When neither of them said anything more, Ivy let out an exaggerated groan. She was definitely livelier when she was around her brothers, Violet saw. She made her way to the couch and sat on Violet’s other side, giving her a look.

  Ivy stunned Violet by leaning in and smelling her. “Now you smell like both my brothers, Violet. I hope you’re not going to break their hearts.”

  She…she had no words to say. Nothing to say to defend herself. Violet didn’t want to leave these shifters, but knowing how she felt and saying it aloud were two different things. She might be a tad afraid of commitment after Maria’s abandonment.

  Plus, breaking their hearts? Like Brice actually cared for her? Violet knew better than that, so she wasn’t sure why Ivy said it. It was clear the eldest brother only cared for himself and his siblings.

  Chapter Twenty-Two - Brice

  Fletcher was dead. It was hard for Brice to comprehend it, harder for him to grasp that his chosen mate had been the one to deal the final blow to the bastard. Ivy said her name was Iris. A female had killed him—which he supposed was fitting. Fletcher deserved nothing less, and he most certainly did not deserve more.

  To think, Fletcher had told Brice and Everett to come all so they could arrive and see Ivy and Violet broken and taken against their will. It was a stroke of luck that brought them to their car, relatively safe and sound. Sheer luck Iris had not waited until after Fletcher had his way with them. But then, Brice thought the female might have a certain fondness for Violet, if her eagerness to crawl beneath her legs had been any indication. Maybe she wanted to protect Violet.

  He’d returned to the apartment with bags of clothes, of which Violet and Ivy immediately changed into, before Ivy had told him what happened. Of course, during the whole thing, Brice could hardly stand to look at Violet. She was clean and wearing normal clothes now, but nevertheless he was nervous about what he’d see in her gaze.

  Plus, there was the whole smelling-like-Everett thing, which was new. They must’ve gotten to business fast. Brice didn’t know why that surprised him, and he also didn’t know why he felt, in a word, jealous.

  He shouldn’t be. Violet wasn’t his, whatever strange feelings his wolf had built up for her after the day before aside. She was human. She wasn’t…she wasn’t made for him. But if his little brother could be happy with her, he supposed he would be supportive.

  Brice was glad though, Fletcher had met his end before he’d taken Violet. If he’d found them after the bastard had his way with them, there would’ve been hell to pay—whether or not he thought he’d be able to survive the attack. Just because Violet wasn’t his did not mean he wanted to see her hurt.

  Once Ivy was finished telling them what happened, her eyes turned accusatory. “What the hell were you two thinking?” she huffed. She sat on the couch beside Violet, who was trying her best not to act interested in the conversation, silently picking at a string coming loose on the couch arm. “Do you have any idea what that bastard made those women do after you brought them to him?”

  Brice knew more than he wanted to. He knew enough. His jaw clenched, and he refused to let his baby sister see the regret he held inside—the feelings he bottled up and kept locked away behind a thousand locks. “We did it to get you out.”

  “You’re even bigger idiots if you thought Fletcher would ever give me up.”

  Jumping to defend him, Everett said, “He released others before—”

  Ivy shook her head. “But none like me. And none of the others ever brought in as many females as you two. Do you want to know how I know how many women you brought in? Here’s a hint: they hated me on sight because of you.” She let her words sink in before she added, “Fletcher always said he had clients lined up for me. If you guys would’ve thought with your heads, then—”

  Finally, Violet spoke up, though she did not move her gaze from the couch arm, “They did it t
o save you. Now you’re out, so there’s no use in obsessing over it. The only thing we can do is think up a plan to get the others out.”

  Brice looked at her—okay, more like glared, but it was more than he wanted to do. “No. We’re taking you back.” He hated how his heart constricted in his chest when he thought about taking her home and leaving her. Leaving her was the last thing he wanted.

  “Fuck that,” Violet said, moving her bright green gaze to him. “I’m not leaving.” She puffed herself up, as if ready to argue, like this was her fight. It wasn’t.

  Shaking his head, Brice moved out of the living room, unable to watch her, unable to look at her for longer than a few seconds without feeling that familiar longing deep inside. Violet would be better off all around if he could just reign in his wolf…let Everett have her.

  It wasn’t like Brice wanted to punish himself—okay, that’s exactly what Brice wanted to do. All of this was his fault. He was the one who made his brother be his accomplice in taking shifter females to Fletcher. He was the one who told Everett that Violet was Maia with her hair dyed. He was the one who volunteered to go to the compound and ended up forced to mate with her…

  So when he thought all of this was his fault, he knew it as a stone-cold fact.

  Loud footsteps followed him, and he didn’t have to turn around to see that it was Violet, the one person in the entire apartment he didn’t want trailing after him like some lost puppy. Standing before the bedroom door, he turned to face her, glaring down at her with an unhappy expression. Luckily Ivy and Everett remained in the living room—or maybe that was unlucky for him, because now he was almost alone with her.

  Almost. Not quite. It was impossible to truly be alone with someone when he shared an apartment with another shifter.

  Violet practically stomped her foot like a petulant child. “You are not taking me back.”

  “You have no say in the matter.”

  “You—you can’t force me to go back! I’m staying, whether your pouty ass approves or not,” Violet hissed, crossing her arms before her, her eyes livid as they met his glare and returned it tenfold.