by Callie Rose
Neither of us thought about closing the door then, and in the blissful aftermath of sex, paying attention to whether or not we closed the door before we got naked wasn’t even on my radar.
Clearly, that was a mistake.
Archer, Trystan, and Dare are out in the hallway looking in, all three of them wearing thunderous expressions that are borderline hostile. The two shifters must have returned from their hunt and stopped by the healer’s house to bring Dare home with them.
Only to find me and Ridge curled up together in a post-sex afterglow.
Ridge rolls away from me, cursing under his breath as his hands root around in the covers. He comes up with my t-shirt and panties, tossing them to me before he goes back to his search.
I tug the shirt on over my head, then yank my underwear on as my cheeks flame with embarrassment to be caught like this. I’m not ashamed of what we did, but the fact we did it while the others were out—and one of them was being healed from painful wounds—does feel like we went behind their backs. Even though that’s not what we did, I don’t know how to defuse the situation.
Ridge gave me my clothes, but he isn’t fast enough in finding his own. He’s still looking for his pants when Dare barges into the room.
Dare moves with supernatural quickness—much faster than he should be able to move, considering the state of his leg earlier today. Camilla really must be the best healer the East Pack has, and while it’s unfortunate she hasn’t been able to save Malcolm, I’m ecstatic to see Dare looking more like himself.
Or, well… I would be if his current self didn’t look so ready to murder Ridge.
His footsteps sound like thunder in the small space, and I swear even the mattress shivers at his rage. He rounds the foot of the bed, grabs Ridge by the throat, hauls him to his feet, and then shoves the broad-shouldered man up against the wall with a vicious, inhuman snarl.
I gasp at the sudden violence, my breath catching in my throat and shock freezing me to the bed.
“You just couldn’t wait to get her alone, could you?” Dare accuses, his tone full of vitriol. “Once you had her all to yourself, you could do whatever you wanted without us standing in your way.”
“Dare, please.” Adrenaline pulses through me. I’ve seen the men bicker and argue before, but I’ve never seen them fight with such vicious anger. I slip from the bed but keep my distance. Partly because I’m terrified of this man, his face so twisted in rage I don’t even recognize him. “It was my choice. I was part of this too.”
The snarling shifter doesn’t even seem to hear me. All his attention is focused on Ridge.
Ridge reaches out and shoves against Dare’s chest, dislodging the other man’s iron grip on his throat. “At least I didn’t fucking abandon her when she needed me most. I sat by her bedside. The three of us took care of her while you ran like a pussy.”
Dare shoves back, his lips curling in fury. “Don’t act like you know me or know what I’ve been through.”
Ridge’s eyes narrow. “Right. Losing your pack to witches who have no connection to Sable is a great reason to turn your back on her.”
“You don’t know my pain!” Dare roars, stepping closer to Ridge with both fists clenched.
My heart seizes in my chest. I’m certain that these two men would be evenly matched in a fight. They could kill each other if things get out of hand, and there’s no way I’m letting that happen. Not tonight. Not ever.
The magic inside me boils just beneath my skin, not visible but so powerful I can feel it in every atom of my body. I struggle to contain it, trying to force images of snapping jaws and blood-soaked fur from my mind.
“I know your fucking pain,” Ridge grits out. “Archer knows your pain. Losing people you love to witches isn’t rare, you asshole. But you know what? None of us make her feel like some unwanted monster. Not the way you do.”
Dare bares his teeth and shoves Ridge again, making his back hit the wall. “Witches are monsters,” he hisses.
Those three words rip through me, opening every single old wound in my body and shattering my heart into a thousand pieces. I hear in his voice just how much he means what he says.
All I am to him is a monster.
When the magic came for me, I ceased to be Sable, his future possible mate, and became nothing more than an abomination.
So then why is he so furious that I had sex with Ridge? Would he want to have sex with a monster? His anger doesn’t make any sense. I’d expect this reaction from Trystan, not Dare, yet the West Pack shifter hasn’t moved from his place by the door.
The room has grown frigid and still. Archer and Trystan both look equally furious—and hurt—at the turn of events, but neither of them makes a move to join the two scuffling shifters. But they both look at me with an undercurrent of pity, because they know exactly what pain Dare put me in with his callous words.
Ridge is right, as always.
The three of them never once made me feel less than wanted or needed. Or less than whole. Even Trystan with his macho, hothead alphaness hasn’t made me feel worthless at all.
Ridge shakes his head as he presses away from the wall, and his face contorting with fury. He lashes out, punching Dare in the face. The blow clips the black-haired man across the jaw, and Dare’s head jerks sideways as he grunts. With a snarl, he recovers and lashes out, his hand wrapping around Ridge’s throat as he slams the amber-eyed shifter against the wall.
Ridge’s hand tightens into a fist again, and I brace for the blow. But it never comes. Instead, he uncurls his fingers, glaring at the man in front of him.
“You fucking jackass,” he rasps, a disgusted tone in his voice. “No one here is a monster but you.”
My panic has risen in the face of all this anger and violence. I clutch at the bedcovers, swaying on my feet. I want to run away and get out of here, to flee from the emotions churning through the room like thunderclouds. But I don’t. I stare at the two men before me, wondering how on earth we got to this moment.
“Please. Stop,” I whisper, surprised at myself that I even have the nerve to speak.
For a split second, Dare doesn’t move.
Then he backs away, letting go of Ridge’s neck as if his skin had burned him. He looks over at me guiltily, then glances away before we can fully lock eyes. His jaw hardens, but he keeps his gaze firmly away from me.
Nobody moves.
Nobody even seems to breathe, really.
Then from the doorway, Archer speaks up. His voice is pained, as if he already suspects the answer to his question.
“Does this mean it’s over? You’ve chosen Ridge to be your mate?”
14
Sable
An absolute silence settles over the room at Archer’s question.
Shocked, I have to readjust my grip on the edge of the bed as my knees go weak. Is it over? Have I chosen? A pang hits me right in the chest, and I press my fingers to the spot, trying to massage it away.
Having sex with Ridge felt right. It felt incredible, and not just physically. It was the perfect expression of the feelings growing between us.
But it didn’t feel like some kind of magical “mating” ceremony. And I don’t feel any different about him now than I did before it happened. If we completed the mating and cemented the bond, wouldn’t I know? Wouldn’t I have picked up some kind of special mate feeling? Wouldn’t Ridge know or have mentioned it in those moments after we finished?
“No. It’s not over,” I say quickly, glancing at Ridge with my brow wrinkled. “That didn’t happen. Right?”
Honestly, I’m looking for reassurance that I didn’t miss something important. I try to imagine what it would be like to just be with Ridge, to watch the other three shifters walk out and never return.
The idea sends stark terror flooding through me.
I can’t stand the thought of losing them. Not because I don’t care for Ridge and definitely not because I don’t want him. I do care for him, and God help me, I still want h
im. But I care for them all—even Dare, no matter how much he seems to hate me. I want them all. Mentally, emotionally, and physically. I’m incredibly sated from having sex with Ridge, but I can still imagine leading them to the bed and letting each of them claim me exactly as he did. The thought makes warmth spiral through my core.
Ridge is leaning against the wall, naked and unashamed of it. He shakes his head. “No. I don’t think it was a choosing,” he agrees. “The mate bond isn’t solidified.”
“I didn’t choose Ridge,” I say, my voice gaining a little strength now that he’s backed me up on this. “But I didn’t not choose him either.”
God, I’m so fucking bad at this.
I look around at the other three men, not quite able to read the expressions on their faces. They each wear an odd mixture of pain, anger, and hope, which seems like a vast ocean of emotion to be feeling. Not that my own wild emotions are any easier to handle.
I take a breath and steel myself before I begin to speak. “Since the moment I was dragged into that summit meeting and you each began claiming me, every single person who seems to know what they’re talking about has said my wolf will choose. Everyone has been so certain my wolf would come out, make her choice of mate, and the rest of you would have to give up your claim and leave.”
A ripple seems to go through the men at those words, and I see Ridge’s jaw clench.
“But that hasn’t happened,” I point out, planting my hands on my hips. “My wolf can’t choose because she doesn’t exist. And I don’t know if it’s my witch magic or just something about all of you, but I feel the mate bond the same as you do. The more time I spend with you, the deeper I get. I’m farther away than ever from being able to pick between you. I’m not being pulled toward one of you and away from the others. I’m being pulled in four different damn directions simultaneously and equally.”
All four men are watching me raptly, each looking a little surprised at how vehemently I’m speaking. But now that I’ve gained momentum, there’s no stopping me.
These feelings have been building for days. Weeks, even. I couldn’t stop this tide even if I wanted to.
“Trying to choose between you feels like tearing myself apart,” I say hotly. “And it hurts. If I had to stand here and choose, right here and now, then my choice would be none of you.”
All four faces fall in such identical expressions of devastation. I laugh, though there’s no humor in the sound. Tears prick my eyes and clog my throat, and it takes me a moment to clear it away before I can speak again.
“See how you feel at the thought of me walking away? I feel the same. It would be easier to tear myself away from all of you, or to rip my heart out and stomp on it, than it would be to feed one part of my soul and starve the other parts.”
The truth of it all aches in my chest. Now that I’ve opened the floodgates, I can’t stop the deluge. Tears spill over my cheeks, and all my pent up anger manifests as raw emotion. “This has been growing inside me for a while now. My heart knows what it wants, and it’s not just one of you. It’s all of you.”
My knees feel wobbly as I finish my speech. I can’t hold myself on my feet any longer, so I sink to the edge of the bed. The backs of my knees hit the mattress, and I plop down onto the blankets, slouching over as if the words I just spoke took all the energy out of me. It feels like they did.
A stunned silence falls over the room.
I press my lips together as I wait for their response, blood rushing in my ears as my heart gallops hard and fast.
So many times, I’ve heard that it isn’t normal for multiple males to mate with one female. I’m afraid they’re all going to laugh me out of the room, or even worse, relinquish their claim and laugh their way home. What I’m suggesting goes against their culture and traditions. One woman with multiple mates.
But then, as if by unspoken agreement, all four men converge on me.
Archer is the first across the room, moving with the same preternatural quickness Dare used to get to Ridge. He offers me a hand, which I accept, and then he tugs me gently to my feet. Before my wobbly knees can send me careening onto the hardwood, Archer wraps his arms around me with a heavy sigh. Trystan sidles up right behind him, where he cups my face and meets my eyes with a wry smile, while Ridge strides around the bed to join us. And then… even Dare is beside me, his body pressed up against me.
As if he does still care about me. Like he does still want me.
I close my eyes and lean into their embraces as new tears burn my eyes.
“Nobody meant to hurt you,” Archer murmurs, brushing his lips over mine. Warmth sparks over my mouth, and I smile, leaning in for another, more thorough kiss. It’s weird, knowing that I just had sex with Ridge and kissed him until my lips were swollen, only to stand here now with Archer’s warm lips moving against mine. But the weird feeling isn’t a wrong one—just a different one.
“I won’t lose you.” Trystan’s voice is rough. He leans over Archer’s shoulder to steal a kiss of his own. Trystan’s kiss is forceful, not at all sweet like Archer’s, but it makes my toes curl.
“We won’t lose you. We can’t,” Ridge murmurs, kissing my shoulder from behind.
I look around at Dare, who’s pressed up against my left side with one hand tangled in my hair. I’m hoping he’ll speak up, say something to make up for the way he’s made me feel and the way he abandoned me. He looks much better than he did before his trip to the healer, and I’m glad to see some of his original spark back.
But he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have any platitudes to give me, or even any assurances.
How can I still have feelings for him after the way he’s made me feel? Dare thinks I’m the enemy. I’m a monster that he ran away from at the first chance he got. Yet, he’s here now. Not just with us, but standing beside me.
I brush my fingertips over one of his healing wounds—a raw slice of new skin on his bicep. Dare leans ever-so-slightly into my touch as if drawn to my hand, but still, his eyes are dark. Brooding.
Tortured by my presence.
I shove that thought aside. For now, I’m surrounded by all four men, and my soul feels complete.
15
Sable
I awake in a cocoon of warmth and limbs.
Light spills through the break in the curtains over the window, arcing across Archer’s face. He’s lying in front of me, one hand resting on my hip as he sleeps. He looks almost angelic in the golden morning sunlight. It turns his blond hair luminous, like a halo around his sharp, handsome face. In sleep, his expression is just as soft and kind as ever.
All four men slept in the bed with me last night, refusing to leave my side. I got the feeling they all wanted to reassure me that they wouldn’t leave me. Staying with me seemed like a kind of promise that they’re serious about not driving me away, even if I’m unable to pick just one of them to be my mate.
Lying in a giant pile was a bit awkward to get used to—arms, hands, and legs in weird places, like we were a pack of puppies trying to find the right way to lie on top of one another in a basket. But after a while, I got used to the feeling of sharing my space. Now, I don’t think I ever want to sleep alone again.
I’m the only one awake right now, surrounded by their still forms and soft breathing. Trystan’s head is resting on my side, his long lashes dark against his skin. He’s lacking his usual sardonic, knowing look with his eyes closed and his jaw slack with sleep, and I feel like I’m seeing a completely new side of the alpha. This is the side of him I glimpse in the moments he’s doing his best to care for me—this is the man who spilled orange juice in his hurry to make sure I was hydrated.
Dare is on the other side of Archer, lying on his back at the very edge of the bed with his face turned toward the window. It still stings how he lay down over there last night, making sure an entire person was between his body and mine, as if he didn’t trust himself to fall asleep touching a witch. Next to Archer’s sunlit, golden angel good looks, Dar
e’s scruffy day-old beard, mussed dark hair, and ruddy complexion make him look like a devilishly handsome demon. I wish I could touch him. I wish he could trust me.
I don’t even trust myself.
I recognize without seeing him that Ridge is curled against my back, sharing the space with Trystan. Ridge’s breath tickles the tiny hairs at the nape of my neck, and his fists are tucked against my back. I flush as I remember last night. The two of us in this bed, naked, our bodies entwined and his hard length deep inside me. A niggle of desire awakens inside me at the memory.
Archer’s eyes snap open, his pupils narrowing to pinpricks as he focuses on me.
Oh, God… did he smell my arousal? Heat rises in my cheeks. There’s no privacy here, not surrounded by men with senses like theirs. One dirty thought, and I’ll have four horny shifters ready to scratch that itch.
To his credit, Archer doesn’t comment on what awakened him so suddenly.
“Good morning,” he says softly. “How did you sleep?”
“Better than any other night ever.” My lips curve up a little in a grin.
“Wolves know there’s safety in numbers,” Archer tells me, sliding a hand to mine. We entwine our fingers, and he goes on. “You’ll never sleep as comfortably as you will on nights you’re surrounded by others.”
“Wolves are really on to something.” I sigh lightly, keeping my voice low so as not to wake anyone else. “What do you think witches know about sleeping in packs?”
Archer gives me a sad smile. “I don’t know. They do form covens, so they obviously believe in some kind of social bond. But I doubt it’s the same as the bond wolf packs have.”
I chew my lip, brushing my thumb back and forth over the side of his hand. “Sometimes I want to know more about them, just so I could understand myself better. But sometimes I think I’d rather not know anything. The more I learn, the more real it will make all of this. Ignorance is dangerous though. I can’t afford to just ignore the witch magic inside me and hope it all goes away. It won’t.”