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Glancing over my shoulder, I saw the pile of suitcases and bags I’d brought with me were gone, along with the sleek black car. “Eat your heart out, Dumbledore.”
My blood ran cold as my gaze connected with the one man I never wanted to see again in my life. Kingston Farrell. Son of the Farrell pack Alpha and future leader of their Family. And, according to my grandfather, my destined mate.
This guy was a priest? He was hot as fuck. Dark, wavy hair, cropped close at the sides but long enough to run your fingers through. The harsh slashes of his defined brows spoke of someone used to commanding respect. And then there was the jawline. Sharp, strong, sexy. What a waste. Curiously, even though Kingston called the Irishman a priest, his complexion bore the trademark pallor of a vampire.
“What will you do if I don’t show up? Spank me, Daddy?” No reaction. The man was a statue carved of stone. Except for that slight twitch in the fingers of his left hand. Barely noticeable, but there. I opened the door and strode outside, but not before he whispered, “Don’t tempt me.”
“They hate you, daughter, for what you are. They will kill you if given the chance. Do not let them. Do not fight the pull of who you were born to be.”
The act brought a fresh wave of bergamot to my nose. Citrus mingled with spice and dredged up an image of warm, amber eyes. Instead of frightening me, the memory of them soothed me. Made me feel safe, protected even.
Tall, pale, dangerous, with thick wavy black hair and disarming eyes the color of molten amber. He took my breath away in that this-guy-is-bad-news-guard-your-virtue kind of way. I couldn’t tear my gaze from him, needing to inspect him and make sure he was real.
“Apparently, your milkshake brings all the supernatural boys to the yard, Sunday. But which one gets the cherry?”
This arse was hurting her, and no one hurt what was mine and lived. I was so consumed by my anger, I didn’t even stop to question the possessive claim I’d just staked. The only thing driving me was the need to draw blood. A whole fucking lot of it.
No one would be feeding on my little wolf tonight. And though my fangs ached with need, I swore to myself that included me.
Embrace them. They are the answer. Embrace. Them.
She started counting on her fingers. “Wolf, Viking, and Vamp. You’re going to be in a sandwich with the whole sexy trifecta.”
Vampires can turn nearly any creature into one of them but, unless they were human first, their victims rarely survive. Shifters can change at will, not just with the moon—spoiler alert, I knew that one. The fae can’t lie but are masters at bending the truth to fit their needs. Witches use elemental magic to harness their power and are thought to be the most dangerous of all.
“She’s jealous. Thorne wants you, and he’s supposed to want her.” “He wants to eat me. There’s a difference.” “Oh, he wants to eat you, all right. That’s the problem.”
High maybe . . . but not dry. The fucker.
“All right, so what you’re telling me is you need a harem.” I laughed. “Yeah, right. Okay. Because I’ll be able to convince not one but three alpha males to just set their instincts aside and share me.” Even as I said the number, my brain automatically corrected me. Four. There were four men I couldn’t get off my mind. But it may as well be one hundred for as likely as it was any of them, let alone all of them, would agree to such an arrangement.
“You have been. And, yes, if you choose this punishment, I’ll put you over my knee and spank your insolent arse until you can’t sit down without a reminder of what my palm felt like on your skin.”
He gripped my face between both large palms and stared deep into my eyes as though he was searching for something. “Untamed. That’s what you are.”
Alek’s brows lifted in amusement. “Always happy to help. I’d gladly offer my services to you both. But I should warn you, Kingston. I can be a bit of an arsehole. You might not enjoy it.”
“How ‘bout this,” Alek drawled. “We’ll both be there. And if you have a problem with that, you can air your grievances with my fist in your face.”
“Put your dicks away. I’m in charge here. This is my training session, and I’m the ticking time bomb, so handle with fucking care.”
Sunday shrugged. “Or watch a Marvel movie.” This time I was the one who growled. “The number of liberties they took with those fucking movies . . . do not get me started, Sunday. Trust me, it’s not remotely the same thing.”
“You can do this, Kærasta.” Everything stopped the moment the endearment fell from my lips. Why was I calling her that? It wasn’t a word used lightly. For the men in my family, hailing all the way back to my grandfather’s time, it was the term reserved for their true mates. The woman who called to their soul. I had absolutely no business using it with Sunday. Did I?
Kingston must have read it in my body language. A shudder ran through him, as if he’d reached a decision he wasn’t entirely sure about. Then, still holding my gaze, he slowly tipped his chin up, baring his throat to me in submission. My heart fluttered, frantic and wild. He’d submitted. Wait. He’d submitted? Holy shit. “Only for you, Sunday.” His words were breathy, as though this had cost him everything.
Kingston strode toward me, cock swinging, still hard, still huge. The thing was a weapon of mass destruction, jutting from his hips. He needed to put it away before he hurt someone.
The contact set my body ablaze with need and the powerful sense I was home. Right where I belonged.
But the end result is I am not going to live a life without my mate because the Council thinks they can dictate my life. I refuse to deny myself the only thing I’ve ever truly wanted.”
“Sunday,” I said with a sigh, “what you don’t realize is it doesn’t matter. I chose you. That’s it for me. You might have other mates, but I am yours. Wherever you go from here, I’ll follow. I’m not going to run from it.”
“I already told you, mate. I will always protect you. It’s not your fertile time; I can smell it. We’re safe.” He slipped his other hand between my legs and pushed his cum back inside me slowly, his finger gliding in and curling sending little shock waves through me. “I belong inside you.”
Anything that made her happy was impossible to refuse. I let that sink in a moment, an unfamiliar sense of calm settling in my chest. I truly cared if she was happy. Until now, I’d never cared about anyone who wasn’t family. Not like this.
“What is it about the devil’s eggplant that makes you all act like a bunch of spoiled assholes?”
“You’re proposing we all care for her?” Thorne asked, his question hesitant. “She’s my mate.” “Mine,” Kingston growled. “She. Is. Mine.” Another ripple of possessive anger rose in my chest, and I had to fight to keep myself from biting out mine as well. My hands balled into tight fists, clenching so hard my knuckles cracked.
From here on out, Sunday had at least two men pledged to remain at her side no matter what. Kingston would come around . . . or he’d be removed from the equation. The choice was his.
I immediately craned my neck up and scanned the sky. “What are you looking for?” “Checking to see if pigs randomly started to fly or if the world is coming to a sudden and fiery end. Because, as far as I know, those are the only two scenarios where you’d ever willingly thank me for anything.”
Instead of supplying me with two options, both boxes said YES! in all caps and enthusiastically underlined. I couldn’t help myself. I giggled. It was ridiculous. And fucking adorable. And exactly what I needed.
“No, Sunday. You are perfect. I’ve felt the power pouring through you. It consumes me. You’re a lot of things. Exquisite. Unique. Untamed. But damaged is not one of them.”
The mating process for vampires differs greatly from that of wolves. Your bond has been growing since the first moment he saw you. Poor soul thought he was hunting you.”
“Fine. I’ll do it, but if Kingston ends up castrated by the end of the night, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Amusement flickered in her eyes once more. “Fair enough, Mademoiselle Fallon. He’ll likely have earned it if you have to resort to that.”
“Bibbity bobbity boo, bitch.”
“Because a woman like you, looking like that, you deserve to hear the truth. And no matter how fucked things are between us, I’ve never lied to you. Not going to start now.”
“No thanks. I like Jacob right where he is.” Confusion flickered in the witch’s eyes. “You . . . named your dick after the werewolf in Twilight? I’ve heard of hero worship, but that seems like you went a little too far, buddy.”
I’ve been fucking in love with you since the day I saw you for the first time. It was out of my control, a goddamned lightning bolt straight to my soul, and you tore my fucking heart out in eight seconds flat. I was ready to give you everything just because you existed, but you rejected me before I had a chance. What the hell did you expect me to do? The only person I’d ever wanted didn’t want me. I didn’t know what to do with all that. I still don’t,”
“You know, things would be easier for you both if you stopped fighting so hard.” “What do you mean?” I was all innocence and naivety. He smirked. “You’d have to be a fool to miss the way you two look at each other. He’s yours every bit as much as we are.” “None of you are mine. Not really. I have to choose and if I choose wrong . . .” I trailed off, not wanting to get into the dirty details of Moira’s vision. Alek frowned, clearly not liking that I’d censored myself. “I don’t think you understand, Kærasta. We’re yours whether you claim us back or not. There’s no choice to be made, simply
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“Not at all. She’s just as much yours as she is mine, after all.”
“I’ll kill them all for you. I’ll burn them to the fucking ground.”
“You saved me, Sunday.” His voice was filled with awe, as if he couldn’t quite believe I’d do such a thing. “Of course I did,” I said with a watery laugh. “I fucking love you. I’m not ready to lose you yet. We’re just getting to the good stuff.” He cupped my face and stared hard into my eyes. “I fucking love you too.”
“You killed Callie?” I asked, my focus drifting to the beheaded vampire corpse at our feet. “She had it coming. No one tries to harm my mate and lives to tell the tale.”
My mates. All of them. Something clicked in me as I finally let myself admit it. I needed these men. All four of them. I was stronger, faster, more in control—mentally and emotionally—when I was with them. They completed me. I couldn’t choose between them. I needed each and every one of them.
The very night Sunday Fallon was brought into this world. My fingers traced the decades-old burn over my heart. The small circle barely the width of my fingertip had been there all this time. Signifying that the first seal broke open when she’d been born. A larger circle, raised and angry, ringed the first. Dread twisted through me as I traced the new, still raw scar that had appeared the moment Noah Blackthorne bonded with Sunday.
