Bewitched by Their Mate [Feral 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour ManLove)
Page 10
Drew had never actually considered an outside factor might have been involved in this civil war within the same species. He recalled Joseph Dupont, Dietrich’s father and, coincidentally, the feral who had been behind numerous deaths and almost destroyed Klaus. He wondered if that man fit into this somehow, in spite of his death at Klaus’s hands.
Perhaps the Spirit Mother had guessed his thoughts, as she began to explain, “Indeed, Joseph was only a tool in G’aladon’s hands. I’m afraid this war is only beginning. And Hewitt here is unfortunately a very important piece of the puzzle.”
“I don’t understand,” Hewitt said, sounding torn and just a bit angry. “Does this have anything to do with the appearance of my wolf?”
His wolf? Drew shared a confused look with his mates. What did the witch mean by that? Was he referring to his mates or something different? By the way he’d phrased the question, he seemed to imply that he had a beast within him, like the spirit wolves. But that was impossible, wasn’t it?
“Somewhat,” the Spirit Mother answered. “You see, G’aladon wasn’t always what he is now. He used to have a soul, albeit a very dark one. But to his mind, this part of him weighed him down. He decided to get rid of it and exchange it for a different power, one over flesh. The result was quite unexpected, but then, not even witches can control all outcomes.”
“He is a witch?” Hewitt gaped at the white wolf. “But…How?”
“You know it is possible, Hewitt.” The Spirit Mother eyed Hewitt speculatively. “Witches have very powerful souls, but also great ambitions and exceedingly intense abilities. And as all of you here realize, the more power someone has, the stronger the need for it becomes. Surrendering one’s soul is not something anyone can do, but after spending entire lifetimes coming up with a solution to circumvent the limits of his existence, G’aladon found a way.”
“There is always a way.” Hewitt rubbed his eyes tiredly. “That is the beauty and the danger of magic.”
“Too true. And here is where you come in, my dear. Having lived many years, G’aladon predictably had numerous sexual liaisons. A son was born out of one of these temporary relationships. That child was your ancestor.”
Hewitt seemed to turn into pure stone. The very air inside the plane seemed to freeze. But alas, the Spirit Mother wasn’t done. “To prevent the danger the boy represented, I placed a woman in his path, one of my most beloved children. Their progeny eventually became your great-great-great…well, many times great-grandfather.”
Drew felt cold inside, and he cuddled even closer to his mates. The Spirit Mother’s explanation made sense, but he couldn’t help but feel that her interference, and that of other creatures like her, somehow violated the independence he’d always believed he had. Years back, he’d only been a human, a doctor who loved his son above all else and who’d accidentally stumbled onto the world of paranormals. Had that meeting been engineered, too? What other choices he thought he’d made had been directed by beings more powerful than himself?
For once, his concerns were not addressed. The Spirit Mother was looking straight at Hewitt, who seemed to be having trouble processing the new information. At last, she delivered the final blow. “And I’m afraid that now, G’aladon wants to use you as a shell to return from the astral plane. His most potent abilities are over matter, and he needs a powerful spiritual vessel to fully escape the astral plane. This is why you could not go down there as spirit wolves. Your souls would have just fed him the energy he needs.”
Mason growled angrily. “Omnipotent being or not, he’s not touching Hewitt.”
Devon’s expression was dark and foreboding. “We’ll die before we let anything happen to him.”
“I would hope no deaths will be necessary,” the Spirit Mother answered. “I know you’re angry and frightened. Take some time for yourselves. There is a way to stop him. We must just seal the breach between dimensions that allowed him to reach out, but to do that, you must be calm and anchored.”
Hewitt nodded, still seeming dazed. “I want…I want to go home.”
“Understandable,” the Spirit Mother replied. “Rest and we will talk again soon.”
In the blink of an eye, the three men were gone. Drew released a small gasp, even if he had witnessed that phenomenon before. The entire situation was too scary, and even if he was no child, he felt young, superfluous, and stupid, unable to understand the big players that were suddenly using him and his mates as pawns.
Whether the Spirit Mother read his mind or not, it obviously didn’t matter. Drew found that he cared little about what she thought. Oh, he should probably be afraid of her or something like that, but instead, he was angry, and he just wanted this whole thing over with so he could crawl into bed with his mates and convince himself their bond was real.
“So now what?” he asked, amazed when his voice didn’t tremble. “What do we do?”
The Spirit Mother looked at each of them in turn. “Now, we get ready to face this. By the time this day is over, all of you will have played a part in the most important event in your lives.”
Talk about no pressure. Well, Drew hadn’t chosen his profession because he was a coward. Let that creep G’aladon come. Drew was tired of being used. He might be only a human, but he would do his best to help in any way he could.
He saw the same determination on the faces of the people around him. Smiling grimly, Drew squeezed his mates’ hands. He didn’t kid himself. This would probably be hard as hell, but together, they might just have a chance to make it work.
* * * *
Hewitt was used to magic, to unexpected spells and changes of location. He didn’t have the skill to teleport, as that took a stream of energy that could easily get out of control if not handled well. However, he couldn’t say he was taken by surprise when the Spirit Mother’s power washed over him, sending him and his mates away from the plane and into a different place.
One moment, he was standing in front of the spirit wolves and trying to understand exactly how he’d ended up the focus of an ancient demonic witch, and the next, he found himself in a room he’d never seen before in his life.
The change of environment managed to shake him out of his self-pity. He turned toward his mates, who had thankfully also been transported here. “Where are we?” he asked.
“Our hotel room,” Devon replied. “The Spirit Mother must have sent us here.”
Hewitt half wished she’d sent them to The Witching Hour, except he didn’t think he could face the club in the first place. It had been his home and his sanctuary, and he’d always relied on his wards and his powers to keep both himself and everyone else within it safe. The fact that the creatures who were after him were immune to magic made him feel more helpless than ever.
His knees buckled, and he’d have fallen had Mason not been there to catch him. The wolf gathered him close and carried him to the bed, placing him down with excruciating care.
“It’s all right, babe,” he said. “The Spirit Mother is right. You need to get some rest.”
As if it was that easy. Hewitt knew that should he close his eyes, he’d only see himself back in those filthy sewers, being systematically drained dry of his powers. Everything made so much sense now. Blood was intrinsically tied in with magic, and by the calculated injuries he’d received, the orcs had meant to create a shell for their master, to weaken Hewitt until he couldn’t fight anymore. He shuddered at the knowledge of how close he’d come to total destruction. His mates might not realize it, but had G’aladon succeeded in his plan, Hewitt would not have only been killed, but completely wiped out of all existence. Sometimes, people could come back in other reincarnations, but not if the soul was eliminated.
Mason and Devon climbed next to him on the bed and hugged him tight. They seemed to have been just as affected by the news they had been given as Hewitt himself. He was probably underestimating them. Undoubtedly, they’d grasped what dangers threatened him and how fucked he was should G’aladon succeed in his plan
.
But Hewitt would not let those more powerful than him dictate his actions. He refused to turn into a whimpering coward just because he’d been attacked at the very center of his being. If anything, he should be happy. He should be celebrating the fact that he was alive with his mates by his side.
A rush of strange light-headedness struck him, and his wolf stirred within him, eager and wild. Yes, he was alive, and he had the power. He was flesh and spirit, and with the mate bond within him, he felt invincible. What could G’aladon possibly do to destroy something like that?
“Babe?” Devon asked, obviously feeling Hewitt’s change in mood. “You okay?”
“Fine.” Hewitt crawled out of their embrace and turned to face them. “I’m just sick of being afraid. We’re stronger than this. Together, we can defeat whatever they throw at us.”
Mason’s lips twisted into a knowing smirk. “You’re sexy when you’re angry, you know that?”
Hewitt arched a brow at the other man. “I would expect you to think I was sexy all the time.”
Devon barked out a laugh. “Don’t tell me you’re fishing for compliments.” He reached for Hewitt, pulling him close once more. “You know how hot you are without us having to tell you.”
Somehow, Hewitt ended up in Devon’s lap, his crease against his mate’s crotch. He figured out the position had quite a lot of potential and fidgeted around, hiding a smirk when his mate released a deep groan. “Oh, you’re just asking for it, aren’t you, little witch?” Devon panted out.
“Mmm.” Hewitt brushed a kiss against Devon’s lips. “Maybe. What are you going to do about it?”
He got his answer moments later when Mason’s hands landed on his hips, stealing him from Devon’s lap. Ferals were not known to share well, but the duo hadn’t experienced any problems before, and they didn’t have any now, when the bond had wiped out all savagery within them. As Mason flipped Hewitt on all fours, Devon already began to take his clothes off. Both wolves moved so fast Hewitt couldn’t even keep track of their motions. In front of Hewitt, Devon expediently got rid of his garments, throwing everything off on the floor. In his current position, Hewitt couldn’t see what Mason was doing behind him, but it didn’t take a genius to guess. The rustling of clothes alerted Hewitt that his second mate was following Devon’s example. He shuddered, only this time, it wasn’t fear causing it, but rather, anticipation.
His two men read his every emotion. Mason pulled him close, and Hewitt arched against his mate, his entire body burning with need. He hated the constraining material that kept him from Mason’s skin. Even through his slacks, he could feel the heat of Mason’s erection. His anus clenched with the desire to be penetrated, and he released a breathy moan. “Please.”
Thankfully, they didn’t let him wait for too long. Their hands moved quickly and efficiently, divesting Hewitt of the clothes that seemed to suffocate him. Hewitt would have loved to help them out with a spell or four, but he was too busy feasting his gaze on Devon’s nude body. He could simply not get enough of seeing those delicious, godlike muscles. If he’d been able to make himself move, he’d have liked to lick Devon all over, to trace the lines of Devon’s six-pack with his tongue, and go even lower down, to Devon’s tantalizing prick.
But it was so hard to tear himself from Mason, and Hewitt allowed his two mates to maneuver him instead. He half expected them to fuck his mouth and his ass like they had before, but to his shock, they didn’t.
Instead, they spread him on the bed, urging him to relax with casual, but seductive touches. The irony of it was that he lay in a position similar to the one he remembered from the sewers. And yet, he felt no fear, no apprehension, just pure lust and desire. His mates crawled over him, and as Mason pressed his mouth to Hewitt’s, Devon’s hot hands explored Hewitt’s skin, leaving behind trails of fire. Hewitt moaned, parting his lips and surrendering to Mason’s dominance. As Mason thrust his tongue inside his wet cavern, Devon started brushing butterfly-light kisses on Hewitt’s chest, circling his nipples when he got over them and biting down on the bits of flesh. The coppery buds seemed directly connected to Hewitt’s cock, as the stinging pain turned into a wave of pleasure that echoed into his groin. Hewitt moaned into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Mason’s neck to pull the wolf closer. Breathing appeared to be unnecessary, and only his mates’ touch mattered. Only their caresses could make him feel whole.
As Devon’s tongue traveled farther down Hewitt’s body, Mason at last broke the kiss, much to Hewitt’s dismay. He might have protested, except then, out of the blue, Devon decided it was time to short-circuit Hewitt’s brain and took Hewitt’s hard cock deep into his mouth.
Hewitt released a choked sound and attempted to reach down, hoping to thread his hands through Devon’s hair. Alas, his mates had other plans. Mason caught his wrists and pinned them above his head, immobilizing Hewitt with almost ridiculous ease.
“Just enjoy it, babe,” Mason murmured in his ear. “Relax. Fuck his mouth. He wants you to.”
Technically speaking, Hewitt would have probably been able to break out of Mason’s hold if he used his magic. But his newly discovered beast surrendered to Mason’s strength, accepting his mates’ domination. It was heady, freeing, and impossibly sensual. The nearly painful yet tender grip of Mason’s strong hand, the wet, volcanic heat of Devon’s mouth, the mere presence of the two wolves, all of it made Hewitt nearly insane with passion.
When his orgasm came, the gentleness and intensity of it took him completely by surprise. Hewitt screamed, sending his spunk down his lover’s throat. It was by some miracle than he didn’t black out, and he mustered enough presence of mind to look at Devon. The wolf drank down Hewitt’s offering and looked up as he cleaned Hewitt’s shaft of every drop. The molten desire in those eyes was enough to scorch Hewitt’s insides in and of itself. His mates were clearly not done with him.
Confirming his thoughts, Mason reached for the nightstand and opened the drawer. He retrieved a tube of lubricant and tossed it to Devon, somehow managing to do all this without releasing Hewitt’s wrists. Devon caught the tube and with a few deft motions, uncapped it. The wolf squirted a generous amount of liquid on his fingers and reached between Hewitt’s legs. “Ready, babe?”
Hewitt swallowed around the sudden knot in his throat. He nodded wordlessly, spreading his legs to give his mate access. Devon didn’t delay in taking the invitation. His slick digits rubbed against Hewitt’s needy hole, making renewed arousal course through Hewitt. His cock, which had never really lost interest, went rock hard once again. Devon smirked at him. “Looks like the answer’s yes, huh, Mason?”
“Definitely yes,” the other wolf replied.
Hewitt trembled at the promise in their voices. He just couldn’t wait anymore. He needed to be filled, to take his mates deep inside his body, to come together with them in the most intimate way that could exist.
Mason and Devon exchanged a look that told Hewitt many delights would follow. “Do you trust us?” Mason asked at last.
“With my life,” Hewitt replied, not hesitating for a single moment.
A dark shadow flashed through Devon’s eyes, so briefly that Hewitt might have missed it had he not been paying attention. He berated himself for his slightly callous words. Now was not the time to remind them that Hewitt’s life had, indeed, been in danger.
Fortunately, both Devon and Mason pushed away the glum musings. As Devon brushed a kiss against Hewitt’s temple, Mason chuckled under his breath. “Nothing quite so drastic.”
Hewitt opened his mouth to ask what Mason was talking about, but then Devon lifted his legs and slipped two fingers inside his body. Every hope of coherence melted, and Hewitt resigned himself to being putty in his mates’ hands. “Just…Please, fuck me,” he begged.
“Oh, we will. We’ll fuck that tight little ass of yours.” Mason laughed darkly. “What do you think, babe? Do you want to feel our cocks inside you, pounding your hole?”
Just the imagery Mason c
onjured made Hewitt moaned. Had he understood correctly? Did Mason truly mean to penetrate Hewitt at the same time Devon did?
Hewitt was no innocent. He’d lived too long to not now have seen a great many kinks. But while he was familiar with numerous sexual positions, he had never been tempted to try all of them. Heck, what Mason suggested sounded as painful as hell since both wolves were quite generously endowed.
But Hewitt had been honest in his reply. He trusted them, and he knew they would never hurt him. Not only that, but the thought of being so thoroughly owned by his mates also excited him beyond measure.
He pushed back against Devon’s fingers, wordlessly demanding more. He wanted to yell at Mason that yes, he yearned for what was offered. Thankfully, he didn’t have to speak. His mates seemed to read his mind regardless of Hewitt’s inability to express his own desires.
Devon added another digit into Hewitt’s hole, finger fucking him in earnest. Just as Devon brushed against Hewitt’s prostate, Mason leaned over Hewitt, kissing him once more. Hewitt’s world melted in a symphony of pleasure, and he allowed himself to lose all control within his mates’ addictive caresses.
Another finger went in, the fourth one, making the fit quite tight. Hewitt enjoyed the burn, though. It made the entire thing seem more real. Sometimes, when he was at his mates’ side, Hewitt almost believed he was dreaming, and he felt thankful for the sting of pain anchoring him in reality.
Devon took his time preparing Hewitt, stretching him with excruciating patience. Just as Hewitt thought he would lose his mind before they got to the main event, Mason broke away from him. Devon took his cue and pulled his fingers out of Hewitt’s body. Hewitt yelped as his mate lifted him up and back into Devon’s lap.