by Callie Rose
Don’t think about Malix.
Don’t think about Malix.
Don’t think about Malix.
Chanting it in your head is thinking about Malix, you fucking dumbass.
Giving in to my insanity, I glance over my shoulder at him. He’s not much taller than me, so most of his body is underwater here, too. The emphasis is on his neck and shoulders, both of which are strong. Corded.
Biteable.
Jesus, I need a distraction.
“So,” I say, “once we’re done with the antidote, are you guys going to go back to that place where you sensed the shadow realm?”
“Sure will,” he replies cheerfully. “You gonna try to stop us, kitty?”
“Sure will,” I parrot back in my sweetest voice, making sure there’s an edge of challenge beneath it.
We glance at each other. Malix has that stupidly charming grin on his face, as always, and against my better judgment, I grin back.
“I’m pretty sure you just told me to fuck off in kitty speak,” he says, tossing the soap between his hands twice before he chucks it at the shore. We watch it bounce across the rocks and then come to rest.
“Not even a week in my presence and you just know me so well,” I quip.
Malix chuckles. “See, that’s why I like you, kitty. Funny, smart, give no fucks...” He trails off, and it feels like he was going to say something else.
I catch his violet gaze, and something shifts in the air between us. The acknowledgement that he likes me settles into a sudden, charged silence.
For the briefest of seconds, I consider telling him that I like him, too. Or I would, if I let myself like him. He’s a lot like me—strong, stubborn, loyal to the people he loves. Malix reminds me every day that he’s meant to be my mate, simply by being himself.
If we weren’t diametrically at odds, all three of them would be my perfect complements.
Our teasing banter vanishes under the weight of the silence between us.
“What are you?” I ask softly. “I know you were ‘made’ or ‘created’ or whatever, but what does that even mean?”
Malix’s smile fades away and he moves toward me, seemingly considering his words. He stops before he gets too close, but even still, his sunshine and fresh air scent overtakes me. I fight the urge to step back—I want him to talk to me. To give me answers.
He lifts a hand out of the water and rubs his palm over his short black hair. His shadows move sluggishly over his bulging biceps. “I am the son of a shadow and a shifter woman.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Um. How?”
“Magic,” he says with a shrug. “Magic was used to create me, but I had a shifter mother who birthed me.”
“Had?”
Malix nods. The moon is rising over the mountains, and it glints off his eyes. He’s beautiful. Otherworldly.
Sad.
“She died when I was four,” he murmurs. “Because of me and my twin sister. Carrying us, all the magic and shadow, it… my mother never recovered.”
“You have a sister?”
He clenches his jaw and looks away, out over the lake.
“She died too,” I guess, my heart sinking at the tightness of pain around his eyes.
Malix swallows visibly and blinks his long, dark lashes several times before he looks back at me. “Kian and Frost are all I have left.”
The pull between us, that insistent tug that never seems to go away, suddenly feels stronger than ever. I can’t stand the way his brow is drawn together, the pain in his eyes, the fact that his smile has just completely vanished. I want to give his happiness back to him and take away everything that’s making his heart ache.
I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.
What the fuck am I thinking?
It’s a good goddamn question, but I’m walking forward before I can even begin to think of an answer.
When I reach Malix, I don’t hesitate.
I just wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him.
His soft, full lips are wet with lake water, and they stoke a fire in me that rages through every nerve ending. He makes no move to touch me, but his lips respond to mine, kissing me back.
My heart’s racing when I pull away from the kiss. Our eyes meet, and I want to tell him how sorry I am about his mother, about his sister, about this shitty lot in life he and his brothers have been handed. But the words don’t come. They feel insignificant.
So I just turn away and start making my way to shore.
When I get back there, I swear I’m going to go into hiding forever.
I kissed Malix. What the fuck? Have I forgotten my entire reason for being? I’m supposed to kill him, not kiss him.
The water splashes around my thighs as I reach the shallows. I’m almost knee deep when a hand grabs my wrist and jerks me to a halt.
Startled, I whirl around to find Malix right behind me, water cascading off his torso like he’s some kind of water god. The tattoos that wind over his shoulders and arms look like deep shadows on his dark skin, and his violet eyes glitter in the moonlight as he stares down at my face like he’s reading my soul.
Then he tightens his fingers on my wrist and yanks me toward him.
Our bodies collide, and he crushes his mouth to mine.
Chapter 25
Malix’s lips are full and warm, and he kisses just like he did in my imagination—with a fierce, powerful sort of hunger that belies his usual laughing demeanor.
He’s not laughing now.
He’s not teasing or taunting.
He’s claiming.
His hands tangle in my wet hair, cupping each side of my head as he slants his lips over mine, his tongue plunging into my mouth. I grab on to his forearms to steady myself, feeling the corded muscles flex under my touch, and we stumble through the shallow water aimlessly as we keep kissing like we’ll never stop.
The slippery, muddy lake bed shifts under my feet as Malix walks me backward, and then hard, rough stone meets my back. A large boulder juts up from the water, and he pins me against it as his hands leave my hair to drift over my body.
He captures one of my nipples between his thumb and finger, and I hiss when he pinches and twists it lightly.
“Fuck, kitty cat,” he groans. “Make that sound again.”
“Don’t call me kitty cat,” I shoot back hoarsely, nipping at his lower lip.
He grabs a fistful of my hair and pulls my head back, dropping his own head to attack my neck with sucking kisses.
“You like it,” he mutters against my skin.
“No, I don’t.”
“You like me.”
“No. I don’t.”
He chuckles and licks at my pulse like he’s tasting my lie. I don’t want him to say anything else, so I grab a fistful of his hair and yank his mouth back up to mine. It’s easier to shut off the voice screaming warnings in my head if I pretend this is just about sex, just about the inescapable chemistry that sparks between us.
Malix grunts into my mouth, his cock pressing against my stomach as he grinds against me. His wet hands slide down the curve of my waist and over my hips, and he palms my ass as he lifts me in his arms. With my back still pressed to the rock behind me, I wrap my legs around him, and now the base of his cock is pressed right up against my pussy in a way that makes me shudder.
Fuck. This is so much like it was in my imagination that night, but somehow a thousand times more intense. I roll my hips, working myself shamelessly against his shaft, and Malix lets out a muffled growl.
I’m already soaked for him, and we’re so close—it would take so little effort for him to slip inside me, to drive himself in to the hilt. But some part of both of us clearly remembers that’s a bad idea, because I can feel him holding back just like I am.
His cock slides through my folds, and my mouth drops open on a whispered curse. He’s not inside me, but it’s close enough to the real thing to send heat surging through my veins. I hook my ankles together behind him, resting
them on the swell of his muscular ass and using my thigh muscles to help me move against him.
“I never told you what I was thinking about, that night at Erik’s house,” he murmurs roughly. “Don’t you want to know?”
“No.”
He chuckles, but that sounds like a growl too.
“I was imagining what you’d feel like. How tight and wet your pussy would feel wrapped around my cock. I was thinking about what I’d do to make you scream.”
“Shut up,” I demand, palming the back of his head and dragging him closer so I can kiss him again. I seal my lips against his as if that will keep the truths I don’t want to admit buried away, as if I can stop him from saying another word if I just kiss him hard enough.
It works, for a while.
He nips at my lower lip, biting it before licking the sting away, then delving his tongue deep inside my mouth. My lips feel swollen and almost bruised from the force of our kiss, and I’m gasping for breath when he finally pulls away. He grips my hips, looking down at me as he holds me against the wall.
“The look on your face just about killed me, kitten. Were you close to coming just from watching me? I swear your pupils got so fucking big I couldn’t see any of that gorgeous green in your eyes anymore. Just black. Just heat.”
He drops his forehead to mine as he says the last word, pulsing his hips so that his cock glides through my pussy lips again, and I whimper at the sensation.
“I wanted to watch you touch yourself,” he adds, his voice low and hoarse. “I wanted to see you come apart. I could smell your scent, and it drove me fucking crazy.”
“Goddammit, Malix,” I rasp.
We’re both practically whispering, like we’re sharing an illicit secret between us. And hell, maybe we are. We’re supposed to hate each other. We’re not supposed to want each other, and it feels like a dirty secret to hear him admit that he does.
Maybe that’s why I give him a secret of my own.
“I did touch myself,” I breathe out, bracing my arms on his shoulders as I move against him. “That night. In bed.”
“Fuck.” His curse is low and deep, and his hands tighten on my hips almost like a warning.
I should heed that warning. I should stop talking.
I should shove him away and hope like hell that getting some distance between us will allow sanity to return.
But instead, I murmur, “I thought about you. And Kian. And Frost.”
Malix’s head jerks back, and I expect to see anger in his eyes like I saw in Kian’s when I returned to the house that night. But there’s no fury. No jealousy. Just raw desire in his burning violet irises.
His fingers press deeper into the flesh of my hips, and I can feel his cock pulse against me. I could make him come like this, I realize wildly. I could get him off just by rubbing up against him like the cat he always teasingly calls me. I could push him over the edge just by talking, by telling him the things I’ve never admitted to anyone, and he could probably do the same to me.
My legs are already shaking with it, my body so keyed up with arousal that every brush of his cock against my clit feels like fire.
I’m soaked and empty and so fucking hungry for him.
“What did you think about?” Malix demands. “What did you imagine?”
He sounds almost desperate, his voice still low and hoarse. His breath is coming faster, and the feel of it gusting over my damp skin makes goosebumps scatter down my arms.
“You were inside me,” I murmur, the simmering heat in my belly dissolving into molten lava. “Kian was behind, inside me too. Frost was watching. Touching himself.”
“Fuck.” Malix makes another choked noise, and his cock pulses against me again.
He’s close. Right on the verge of coming.
I should let him finish like this. I should chalk it up to a stupid mistake, a moment of weakness, and walk away with some part of the emotional barrier between us still intact. But the wild, primal part of me that nearly went to him when he held out his glistening hand to me on that moonlit night—she can’t stand the thought of that.
Reaching down between us, I fist his cock and use my thighs to lift myself up a little as I notch his broad crown at my entrance.
Malix stiffens for just a second, his breath stuttering just like mine.
Then he drives his hips forward and pulls me down, impaling me in one hard thrust.
I fall apart on his cock, pleasure spreading through me as the aching feeling of emptiness is replaced with nothing but Malix. The fresh air and sunshine scent of him surrounds me, mingling with the scent of water and pine, and he shouts raggedly as the first hot jet of his release spurts into me.
I can feel him coming, and my walls clench around him like a vise, my body writhing in his arms.
The intense burst of the orgasm fades, but he doesn’t stop fucking me. He’s still hard, and now that he’s inside me, neither one of us is teasing the other. Neither one of us is holding back. It’s like we know we’ll never get a repeat of this stolen, illicit moment, so we’re throwing ourselves into it headfirst.
The rough surface of the rock scrapes at my back and digs into skin as he drives into me hard and fast, but the pain feels good. It’s as if I need it as a counterpoint to the overwhelming pleasure surging through me.
I hang on to Malix, sliding my fingers through his tightly curled black hair as I come again.
He doesn’t slow his pace at all, although I can feel how tightly I’m gripping him. His thrusts become short and choppy as he pounds into me, and when he spills inside me again, the feel of it sends me over the edge one more time.
I’m shaking, and I’m stuffed so full of his cum that it’s sliding down my legs already, slick and wet as it cools in the night air.
Malix’s hold on my hips is so tight that I imagine for a second that he’ll need a crowbar to loosen it. He draws in several deep breaths and releases them, and his nose nuzzles my cheek. His lips ghost over mine, not quite touching them as we breathe together. Then he pulls out and sets me back on my feet.
The chill of the water that laps around my calves makes my muscles tighten, and I lean back against the boulder as I make sure my legs can really support me. Malix takes a small step back, looking at me with an expression he’s never worn before—one I can’t quite read.
“Fate’s a fucking bitch,” he murmurs quietly.
My heart clenches. I don’t know what those words mean to him, but I know what they mean to me.
They mean that what should be the happiest and best thing in my life is the worst and most painful thing instead. They mean I’ll probably always be stuck between what my heart wants and what my minds know is right. They mean that even though Malix wants me and I want him back, there’s no way for us to be together as long as we’re at odds.
Is it possible to sidestep fate?
To change the course of one’s destiny?
I think of all the little things I’ve seen the feral shifters do, those tiny but undeniable signs that they’re more than just heartless, callous monsters.
Is there some other way to stop them from carrying out their horrible mission besides killing them?
Goddammit. This is all so fucked up.
I shove away from the rock, trying to master my chaotic emotions as I get my legs under me. I know the smile that I flash Malix doesn’t reach my eyes, but it’s the best I can manage at the moment.
“Fate may be a bitch,” I tell him in a low voice, “but so am I.”
With that, I turn away from him and stride deeper into the water, embracing the chill of it as it rises up around my body.
Chapter 26
After washing up again and letting the mindless task of scrubbing at my skin settle my thoughts a little, I climb out of the water. There’s a towel waiting for me on shore—thanks to Malix, I suppose, though I never saw him return with it. It’s not the thickest of towels, a little travel thing, but it does the job. I dry off and wrap the damp fabric aro
und me to go dig some clothes out of my bag.
Kian is building a fire while Frost and Malix skin the deer the other two shifters brought back with them. All three of them glance up as I return in my handkerchief-sized towel. I crouch beside my bag to dig out my jeans and a clean tank top, and I notice both Frost and Kian tilt their noses into the air.
Toward me.
Fuck. Can they smell the lingering scent of sex on me? Even after I washed off in the lake again?
They turn their suspicious gazes on Malix, who just smiles charmingly as if he has no idea what they’re thinking.
Frost looks away out into the darkness beyond the light of the fire, something like hurt in his expression, though it isn’t exactly easy to read him. Kian catches my eye, anger tightening his lips as he sizes me up. I put my chin in the air and drop my towel, pointedly facing him naked as I step into my jeans.
I refuse to feel bad about having sex with Malix. First of all, it was fucking amazing, and I’m not even going to lie to myself that it wasn’t. Second of all, they’re all three my mates and they know it, so not one of them has more right to me than another. And lastly, Kian rejected me three years ago. He doesn’t get to be pissy about shit.
Plus, it’s not going to happen again, so he can calm the hell down.
My jeans got some gnarly rips in my accident. A big patch of fabric is torn over my right thigh, where I got the worst of the road rash, and both knees have frayed holes, too. On the plus side, the big hole on my thigh leaves the last of my rash open to the air. Good, because it itches like hell.
Yanking my shirt over my head, I head over to join Frost and Malix at the deer. “Need help?”
Malix grins and hands me a knife. “Go ahead and saw off bits for grilling.”
I start working on the deer’s muscular hips, keeping my head down and avoiding eye contact. I don’t want anyone to bring up the fact I had sex with Malix and try to air grievances like a couple of petulant pups. I’m too exhausted to deal, and the low level pain I’ve been sitting with since my bike wreck is heavier than it was earlier.