Chapter 30

I backstroke through the steaming water, watching with bated breath as Caleb strides into the pool. Beyond him, Caspian enters more slowly, a small smile playing on his lips.

I duck under the water and scrape my hands through my hair, scrubbing my scalp—grit greets the pads of my fingers. When I surface and sweep my hair back, blinking water out of my eyes, Caleb is gone and Caspian is sitting on a bench under the surface that leaves him covered up to his waist, leaning back against the edge, arms spread wide.

What are you doing way over there? I ask via the bloodlink.

He grins. Watching .

Watching what?

He doesn't answer, because at that moment a powerful hand grips my ankle and yanks me under the surface. There's no time to react. Caleb's arms wrap around me and his body envelops mine and he kicks through the water with me. We surface a few feet from the bench where Caspian lounges.

Caleb stands up with me, and my legs hook around his waist and I carve my hands over his huge chest and broad shoulders, and my lips find the rough sandpaper stubble that's more of a beard at this point. His hands cup my ass and his mouth traces light, peppering kisses along the column of my throat and the underside of my jaw.

I feel Caspian watching, and link my mind to his, brushing him with my desire, which was a banked fire before and is now waking up and becoming an out-of-control conflagration. He responds in kind, letting me feel his arousal and the pleasure he feels watching me. I add Caleb to the link, and his pleasure at having me wrapped around him and his hands on my curves is a raging wildfire, spurring my own need to new heights.

I writhe my sex against his. "I need you, Caleb," I whisper.

He moves through the water toward the bench. "Need to taste you first, Sparrow."

He sets me on the edge so my feet are on the bench, my ass hanging off the edge. His soft lips and rough stubble slide with delicious counterpoint over my skin, trailing kisses from the inside of my right knee to my thigh, to the crease of my hip. His hands skate up my belly to cup my breasts, and my nipples harden into aching diamond points.

He teases me, huffing a hot breath over my seam, running the tip of his tongue up my lips, but not giving me what I need, what I want. I bury one hand in his wet hair and cup his head, urging him closer.

Caleb licks my sex. Looks up at me. "Kiss your mate, Sparrow." His eyes go to Caspian. "Look at him. Look at his need."

Caspian is fully hard, the pink round tip of his beautiful cock poking up out of the water, straining. I reach for him, and he slides closer. Caleb's hands frame my hips, and his thumbs pry me open so his tongue can lap against my clit, and I cry out, hips lifting.

Caspian growls in his throat at my gasp of pleasure and leans over, one hand going to my face and the other to my breast. His mouth takes mine, and I whimper at the taste of him, blood and shadows and everything Caspian.

I sink into the kiss, tangling my tongue with his, letting the burn of need build and build, gasping as Caleb's oh-so-talented tongue flits and flutters, swipes and circles against my clit, taking me higher and higher.

I clutch Caspian's cock, caressing his length lazily, gently.

Make him come, Caleb murmurs across the link. He needs it. He suffered without you.

I pull away from the kiss and meet Caspian's gaze. "Come up here," I whisper, tugging at him.

He moves over me, straddling me, facing me, kneeling on the lip of the pool. I whimper in ecstasy as Caleb devours me with slow, sweet, lazy tenderness—he's not even trying to make me come yet, just…tasting me. Feeding my need.

I reach for Caspian and find him hot and hard. I look up at him as I lick the tip of his cock, tasting his flesh for the first time in months. Caspian's eyes go void with desire and his jaw slack with anticipation—I press my lips to the tip, my eyes on his. I keep eye contact as I slowly take him into my mouth.

"Ohhhhhh fuck, Mae," he breathes. " Fuck yes. I need you so fucking bad, Mae."

You have me, I return, mentally. All of me. Forever.

"Feels so fucking amazing," he whispers, as my lips slide down his cock, lower and lower, until he reaches the back of my throat.

Caleb slides a finger inside me, and I groan—the sound and feel of me groaning makes Caspian hiss. His hands cup my head, holding and guiding. I keep one hand on Caleb and with the other I caress Caspian's balls, sliding my mouth upward. I reach his glans and transfer my caressing touch to his root, pumping him as I suckle around him, swirling my tongue across his tip, and then I flinch and gasp around him as Caleb adds a second finger and starts pushing them slowly in and out of my channel.

His tongue trips and touches and flicks and his fingers fuck, and I moan, delighted and overwhelmed and flush and full, my mates both here with me, touching me, needing me, wanting me, tasting me, giving pleasure and taking it.

Could anything be better?

I take Caspian's cock again and I open my throat and take him deeper, until my nose nudges his belly. He groans loudly, his hands tightening on my head.

Caleb increases the tempo, devouring my clit with his lips and tongue while his fingers plunge in and out of me, and I can't help but match his pace, bobbing on Caspian faster and faster in synch with Caleb's tempo.

Caspian lets out a tight, gasping groan and he pulls me against him. I open my throat willingly, eagerly accepting his thrusts. I need to taste him, need to feel his release, need to soak up the pleasure that only I can give him.

My hips buck helplessly as Caleb drives me to the cusp of climax. I clutch his head and hold him to me, grinding against his mouth and fingers as he plunders me and pleasures me. Caspian is panting, and now he can't help but thrust into my mouth as he builds to his own climax.

"Caleb," I whimper, pausing to caress Caspian with my fist. "Make me come, my love."

He just snarls in response and adds a third finger, thrashing my clit with his tongue. I cry out as my orgasm crescendos, and I shiver at the edge, desperately holding back so I can come with Caspian.

Give it to me, I say to Caspian, knowing Caleb hears it as well. Maybe I'm talking to both of them. Come for me, Cas.

I take his cock in my mouth and plunge deep, swallowing around him. I feel him thicken against my lips, cupping his soft taut balls and feeling them twitch and tense. Faster and faster I take him, as Caleb pushes me past my ability to hold back.

Caspian roars through gritted teeth, fingers knotted in my wet, tangled hair and thrusting hard into my throat. "MAE! Fuck, fuck, fuck, my love, I'm coming, Maeve—ohhhhh fuck, god, yes, Maeve, take it all, Little Sparrow…"

I let go, my scream of ecstatic release muffled around Caspian's thrusting cock, and I come so hard I see stars flash behind my eyes. Caleb is growling as he devours me, a satisfied predator with its prey.

Caspian's orgasm floods my mouth and spurts down my throat, and I drink it all and scream as I come, and I plaster my hand against Caspian's ass and pull him against me, encouraging him to fuck me and take me.

Oh, oh, blessed gods and blood, he does. He lets go, then, and the weeks of agony and waiting and madness and doubt and fear are washed away— I feel them flow out of me, and across the link I feel it all leave Caspian as he grunts and snarls and gasps and curses through his climax. His cock throbs in my mouth, pulsing and huge and hot, his cum tasting salty and musky and rich and perfect.

Caleb plunders me through the orgasm, only slowing when he feels me fall down the other side of my release. Caspian pulls out of my mouth and wipes my lips with his thumb—I capture his wrist and pull his thumb into my mouth and lick it clean. He slides off me, kneels beside me, and kisses my mouth.

"Fucking love you, Mae. So much." He rests his forehead against mine. "I needed that so goddamn bad—you don't even know. Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet, Cas," I whisper. "We're just getting started."

He pushes Caleb aside. "My turn."

Caleb surges up out of the water to sit beside me, amber-glowing eyes burning with pleased satisfaction. "You're never as beautiful as when you're coming for me, Mae." He caresses my cheek. "Mae. My mate."

" Our Mae," Caspian corrects, slipping down between my thighs, an eager grin on his face. "I think you should show Caleb how good your mouth feels."

Caleb watches Caspian fuse his mouth to my sex, and then his eyes go to mine. You're okay with this? He asks, privately. With both of us?

I reach for his neck and pull him to me, claiming his mouth as I answer mind-to-mind, not privately as he had but to the both of them. Being with you both is what I never knew I needed. You both make me feel so beautiful and so loved. It's perfect. I pull back and look from mate to mate. It's also hot as fuck .

He growls into the kiss, pleased. I pull away from the kiss, grinning. "Come here. Let me taste you."

He shakes his head. "Not yet. I want to watch him make you come."

I throw my head back with a moan as Caspian thrusts his fingers inside me and finds my G-spot with unerring accuracy—I'm instantly on the verge of another orgasm. I brace my hand against Caspian's wet dark hair and thrust into his mouth; I reach my other hand out and find Caleb's huge hard cock. He rumbles his pleasure as I stroke his length.

There's no warning—I'm building and building to climax as Caspian's mouth and fingers do their work, and then I'm thrashing and screaming as the orgasm shatters me, and all I can do is clutch Caleb's cock and scream through it.

Caspian tongues me through the climax until I'm shivering and shaking and gasping. I'm limp and quaking, delirious with the unexpected intensity of the orgasm. Caspian sloshes out of the water and kneels on the edge of the pool.

"Take her," Caleb growls. "She needs to be fucked."

I feel Caspian pull me onto his lap facing him, cradling me in his arms; Caleb kisses my shoulder, my nape, my spine. I shiver and whimper, gasping as Caspian leans me backward into Caleb's arms—Caleb's mouth latches onto one of my breasts and Caspian the other, and Caspian's fingers tease my clit, already throbbing and aching from two intense orgasms.

But my mates know me—they feel me, and they know damn well that I'm not content, not by a long shot. Not until I've had both of my mates.

Together—at once.

I groan, hating to stop the delightful hot tugging pressure of their mouths on my tits, but I need more.

I need them.

As Caleb so accurately put it—I need to be loved. I need to be fucked.

Thoroughly.

I move to my hands and knees—grateful to be a vampire because the rough hard stone would have felt awful and uncomfortable if I was a mortal, but now I barely feel it. Or maybe I'm just too turned on to feel it.

Caspian rises to his knees behind me, and his hands caress my ass and my back. I look back over my shoulder at him, eyes hooded and mouth open. "Cas… please . I need you."

He palms my ass again, just for the pleasure of it, and then grips his cock. Nudges my opening. "You need this, my love?"

I push backward. "Please, please. Yes. I need you. I need your cock inside me, Cas. Now."

This is a mating frenzy such as I've never felt, a driving desperate need hotter and wilder than I've ever experienced, an out-of-control arousal that nothing can satiate. I feel my mate-mark burning on my back, feel my magic flaring and my blood pounding.

I meet Caleb's eyes, lick my lips, open my mouth. He moves to his knees in front of me, a deep feral rumble rattling his chest. His eyes glow bright amber, and heat billows off of him. Behind me, Caspian notches himself between the lips of my pussy, but waits. I glance back, and he's watching, waiting.

"Take him, Mae," Caspian urges.

I wrap my lips around Caleb's cock, and moan at the taste of him, the feel of him stretching my lips wide. As I take him into my throat, Caspian pushes into me. I moan high in my throat, and Caleb growls as the vibration hums around him.

Oh… fuck .

This is…

Incredible. Never would I have thought I would do this, and love it so much.

I feel Caspian slide home, his hips and belly slapping against my ass. I pull away from Caleb, gazing up at him as I pop him free of my mouth, take a breath, lick up the underside of his cock, and then slide him back into my mouth, swallowing around him until my nose bumps his belly.

He gathers my wet hair and wraps it around his fist, eyes burning with pride and heat and pleasure and need. "Ready, my love?"

I push back into Caspian with my eyes on Caleb. Take me, my loves, is my only answer.

Caspian slides back and thrusts into me, slowly, gently—a tease. I return the favor to Caleb, bobbing shallowly around his glans, swirling with my tongue.

"Harder," Caleb growls. "She wants more. I know you can sense it."

Caspian's answering snarl is one of savage joy, and he pulls back, one hand on my back and the other gripping my ass cheek…and then he slams into me— hard .

It drives me forward so I have no choice but to swallow around Caleb, shrieking in shock and pleasure. Caleb grunts, twisting my hair into a knot which he fists tightly in both hands.

"Again," Caleb says, eyes glittering and shining. "Fuck our mate harder, brother."

I feel Caspian's shock at the word "brother," but the shock quickly turns to a rush of hot pride and contentment that washes over the bond between the three of us. He grips both of my ass cheeks and pulls them apart, driving into me hard, fast, and deep. I cry out, the cry turning into a moan as Caleb's thick, hot, throbbing cock fills my mouth and throat, stretching my lips and jaw.

Don't stop, I tell them, mentally. I love this. I want it. I want you both.

Caspian bends over me, his cool hard chest flush against my back. He cups my throat as Caleb fills it, and then his tongue laps against the side of my throat and venom rips through me, ecstasy burning brighter and hotter still, and then exploding into an involuntary orgasm as his fangs pierce my flesh with a delicious pang, and my blood surges and sings and flows, and his skin warms against me. He drinks from me and thrusts into me, and I feel Caleb take charge then, thrusting into my mouth, pushing me back into Caspian. They play with me then, Caspian thrusting me against Caleb, and then Caleb fucks me backward into Caspian…

Back, and forth, and back and forth—I cry out, the sound muffled and choked, a shriek escaping me as the first orgasm shatters into another, and then I lose all capacity to think or move or breathe or make a sound.

All I can do is let my mates take me. Caspian thrusts wildly, frantically, and Caleb fucks my mouth with slower, harder control. Back and forth. Back and forth.

Caleb growls in warning, a wolf's ripping snarl in his chest, and then he's coming, a hot flood of sweet wild come bursting over my tongue, so much of it so fast I can't swallow it all and it spills out around my lips and drips down my chin, and Caspian slides his fangs out of me and licks the wound closed just in time to lean back and slam deep, so hard it aches inside me, a beautiful, perfect sort of pain. He fills me, then, a vampiric dark fang-muffled snarl tearing out of him as he withdraws and fucks into me once more, harder yet.

Slowly, slowly, they bring me back down. Caleb pulls free, and I gasp for air, bracing my weight on one hand to wipe at my lips with my fingers, which I lick clean with my gaze fixed on Caleb.

"Fucking perfect," he murmurs.

"Fuck yeah, she's perfect," Caspian agrees.

Caleb scoops me up off the ground and carries me into the water, through the swirling steam. The sound of rushing water greets us as we enter a hidden alcove, where water falls from the ceiling in a loud hard rush. I'm limp and boneless, and content to let my mates take care of me.

Caleb sits on a bench positioned under the waterfall so it flows over my head. He pulls back, scrapes my wet, white-glowing hair away from my face, and kisses me, soft and sweet.

"Break time," he whispers. "But we're not done with you, yet."

Caspian pushes up against my back and I smell a floral shampoo, and then Caspian's strong fingers are kneading my scalp and working my hair into a thick lather. Caleb leans me under the fall to rinse it, and then Caspian repeats the process with conditioner.

While the conditioner sets, my mates pass a bar of soap back and forth, scrubbing my flesh with it, the process as much one of caressing my curves as getting me clean. I close my eyes and luxuriate in the feeling of being so loved, so cared for. Their hands are gentle but strong. Their bodies surround me, and their thoughts and emotions, palpable and clear across the three-way link, are overflowing with pride and pleasure and joy and love and peace and contentment and possessive, protective jealousy—not jealousy, or at least not jealous of each other. That one is hard to put into words. They'd kill anyone who touched me who wasn't Caleb, Caspian, or my coven.

They take their time washing me, inch by inch, every nook and crevice and curve.

They rinse my hair and soap me up all over again, just to slide their hands over my skin, over my heavy, aching breasts.

Fuck, I need them again. How?

"It's the mating frenzy," Caspian says, answering my unspoken thoughts. "A common response after a battle. Even mortals frequently experience an increased sexual response to adrenaline. But you, as an immortal, feel it a hundredfold. You have two mates, now, so double the frenzy."

"Lucky us," Caleb says.

"Lucky me," I whisper, feeling feverish and wild and frantic.

Need smashes through me like a wildfire. I need my mates inside me. I need my coven.

"Call them," Caleb whispers.

I open the link to the whole coven. Come to me, I call. Alistair. Fin. Stirling. I need you.

Their minds brush mine, all at once, Fin's effervescent and eager, Stirling's stoic and deep, and Alistair's tender and vast.

Caspian's soapy, slippery fingers curl around my thighs, and Caleb hauls me against his chest and ravages my mouth with his. Caspian caresses my back, my shoulders, my sides, hands carving over the spread curve of my hips and then palms my ass. His lips touch hot kisses to my spine and then nibble my ear.

"How about this, Little Sparrow?" He whispers, dark voice dripping with desire.

His slippery fingers slide down the seam of my backside and press against my back entrance. "Have you ever been touched here, my love?"

I gasp in shock, rolling my head against Caleb's chest. "N-no. No. Never."

"May I?"

I nod.

"Give him the words," Caleb murmurs. "Tell him what you want."

"Touch me," I hiss, swiveling my hips against his touch. "I want it. I want you there."

"Where?" Caleb growls. "Tell him where."

"In my asshole," I gasp. "Please. I want it."

Who am I? What is this wild, all-consuming need? Nothing can sate me. It's a fire within, a mindless, savage need for more , for my mates and my coven, for all of my men.

Caspian teases my entrance with a finger and I moan, pressing against Caleb's chest, breasts crushed flat against the anvil of his body. Caleb's huge rough powerful hands cup my ass and pulls me apart for Caspian, and I feel his cock nuzzling my sex, and my lips stutter against Caleb's skin as I whimper.

Caspian's finger nudges, teases, and I hear the crack of a plastic lid opening, and then slippery warmth drizzles down my rear seam and floods my entrance, and Caleb slips almost inside me, the broad fat tip of him splitting my nether lips open.

"Please," I whisper, begging shamelessly. "Fill me, my mates."

I've never wanted anything the way I want, right now, in this moment, to have both of my mates inside me. It seems so dark, so much, so perfect—once forbidden or very least taboo, or for other girls but never me, not even in fantasy, and now it's all I want, all I need—it's everything, and now it will be mine.

Caspian groans as he slides his finger inside me, little by little—Caleb mirrors the pace, driving his cock into me by teasing, aching, gradual degrees. I cry out, clawing my fingers into Caleb's shoulders.

"Drink from me, my love," Caleb commands.

I must obey. I lick his throat and feel his sweet wild blood sing to me, and I pierce his flesh and growl with sordid ecstasy as his blood floods my mouth and Caspian's digit drives slowly into me, and Caleb's cock splits me open.

More, I growl to them. All of you. Please, my loves, please. I need you, both of you, all of you .

Caspian's finger slips out of me, and I moan a negative, but he wraps me in his arms and cradles me to himself, my back to his front, his body the cushion beneath me, and Caleb fills the space between my thighs. Caspian curls his hands behind my knees and draws my thighs up to my hips, spreading me open. More slippery hot wetness coats me and then I feel Caspian's cock dimpling my asshole.

"This?" Caspian breathes into my ear. "You want me here?"

I nod, gasping, whimpering. "Please. Please ."

"She's begging for it," Caleb rumbles. "Give our mate what she wants."

Caspian pushes, and I cry out a wild shriek as he slowly, gently enters me—the burn is delicious and dark and dirty and perfect and I relax myself for him and take him, all of him, inch by inch until he's fully seated within me, and then Caleb nudges my pussy.

The anticipation is such sweet torture. Both of my mates. Oh gods and the sweetest Blood—my mates .

I hear splashing. Smell my coven.

"Oh, fuck," Fin growls, shocked arousal in his voice. "Maeve, holy shit. You seeing this, Stirling?"

"I see it," Stirling breathes.

"Beautiful," Alistair whispers.

"Please, Caleb. Please." I open my eyes, and I'm greeted by Caleb's amber gaze, hot and hungry.

"Watch, my love," he commands. "Watch me fill you."

I crane forward, whimpering as I see Caspian's cock buried inside me, and there's Caleb, impossibly huge and thick and hard, veins standing out, his fat lovely tip weeping precum. He meets Fin's void-black gaze as he stands a few feet away, watching. Stirling is there, too, and Alistair, all watching with blacked-out eyes, chests heaving with desire. They're naked and hard, and I want them.

"Come…closer," I breathe, panting in anticipation as Caleb touches himself to my entrance.

Alistair is the first to move, his body lean and sharp, all perfect ridges and veins and grooves, his cock tall and proud and straight and beautiful. I reach for him and grasp him, caress his length—his eyes close involuntarily and his breath hitches.

"No," I breathe. " Watch , Alistair. Watch me touch you. Watch us."

His eyes flick open, and I sense his trepidation, his conflict. I hold his eyes as I stroke his thick shaft, and I see the past flood through him.

"Who touches you, Alistair?" I question.

"You, Maeve," he breathes.

"Me. Here. now." I pull him closer by his straining length. "You're mine, and I'm yours."

"Yours," he breathes. "Please, Maeve. I…I want…"

"Tell me." I twist my fist around him. "Tell me what you want so I can give it to you."

"Your mouth, Maeve. I want your lips wrapped around me."

Caleb chooses that moment to drive into me, all at once, filling me in a single swift rush, and I scream as I'm filled and overfilled and glutted on my mates, so full it's impossible, and beneath me Caspian is growling, tensed.

I stroke Alistair and turn my face to Caspian's. "Move, my love. Take me. I want it. Please."

"Ahhh, fuck ," he growls in response. "Like this?"

He draws his hips away, and I whimper at the lush eroticism of his cock sliding out of me when there's only a thin veil of skin between him and Caleb, and I'm so full I can barely breathe.

As Caspian pulls out, Caleb drives in, and I scream again, because Caleb's cock is so thick and so hot, and the scream turns to a whimper.

I turn my head and find Alistair watching rapt, and I plunge my fist around him to his root, tilt him to me and take him into my mouth. His growl is pure vampire, feral and full of fang.

More. More.

Nothing is enough.

Fin. I follow him with my eyes as he circles Alistair to my left. I reach my hand for him, finding his hard body flush with fresh blood, his abs grooved and rippling with anticipatory breaths. I taste Alistair and frill my hand with Fin, bob my mouth down Alistair's throbbing length and squeeze Fin's root. Caleb pulls back as Caspian drives in, and I whimper a soft helpless cry around Alistair.

More. More.

Stirling. On my right. I meet his gaze, too, and smile at him around Alistair as I grasp his long, slender cock, and he rasps a sigh.

Yes.

This.

All of my men.

Caleb. Caspian. Alistair. Fin. Stirling.

All touching me, filling me, tasting me, loving me, wanting me.

I feel so selfish, having all these men for myself.

Caleb and Caspian set a rhythm, then, a seesawing, trading, teasing—knowing somehow that I want them both at once, driving into me in unison.

I fall into feeling, all thoughts burnt away by need, by pure sensation. I slide my lips around Alistair and watch his face as I take him, watch him watching me, his fangs pricking his lips and his eyes dark and his thighs bunching as he tenses.

"Maeve," he whispers, teeth gritted. " Fuck ."

Have I heard him curse before? I can't remember, can't think. I just know it's fucking hot because I know he's close, already. I want his come in my mouth—I need it.

I move fast, take more of him, my eyes on his. My hands have minds of their own, my left hand caressing Fin with rough vigor while my right hand strokes Stirling with slow deliberation.

Caleb grunts as he dives deep, my thighs hooked over his shoulders. Caspian snarls in my ear. "I can't…hold back…" he gasps. "You feel too…too good."

Don't hold back, I say across the group link. Let go, my bloodmate. Give it all to me.

I moan around Alistair, feeling him thicken in my mouth, tensing, pulsing; his voice lifts in a soft, long moan, and his hips push. I look up at him into his eyes. It's okay, my love. Let go. Give it all to me.

He sighs, a rough dark growl, and his hands cradle my head and he thrusts into my mouth, and I whimper an affirmative.

More, I say to him, never taking my eyes from his. Show me, Alistair. Take me. Make me yours.

He cries out, his face twisting with savage need, and he finally lets go of his control. He holds my face in place and thrusts into my mouth, and I shriek in ecstasy, enraptured by the vision of my stoic, proper, buttoned-up professor Alistair Taylor, my five-hundred-year-old vampire, going wild, fucking my throat with manic abandon.

"So… fucking …sexy," Fin whispers. "Fuck, Maeve. You're a goddess."

"Our goddess," Stirling breathes.

Caspian brings his knees up, using the leverage to drive into me, slowly at first, his rhythm faltering and uncertain. But when I pant and twist my mind around his and share my ecstasy with him, he growls, and he too lets go.

"Fuck," he snarls. "Maeve, Mae, fuck—I'm—oh, god, oh gods, oh fuck, Mae …"

Harder. Faster. Deeper.

Caleb roars, now too, adjusting his position so he's angled over me and powering into me. Hard.

Flesh smacks against flesh. The scent of sex fills the steamy air.

I shriek again, louder, as both of my mates fuck me in earnest, and Alistair pulses in my mouth and I whimper around him, humming encouragement as he thrusts deep, grunting.

"Gods, Maeve, I can't hold back any longer." His voice is dark and rough.

I swallow around him and look up at him, holding his eyes as he releases. I drink his seed and whimper and moan between gulps, and then he's slipping out of my mouth and kissing my breasts and his tongue sends venom into my skin, into my bloodstream, and ecstasy crashes through me in a renewed frenzy, and his fangs pierce the tender soft flesh of my breast around my nipple, and he sips my blood and his tongue flicks against my nipple and I scream, and I scream, and I scream.

Caspian explodes inside me, roaring, plunging deep, and Caleb is slamming home too, and I squeeze around him helplessly, wildly, and caress Fin and Stirling with halting strokes; fingers—Alistair's—touch my clit and I explode into an orgasm which triggers Caleb's, and now my mates are both coming inside me at once and we're all thrown headlong into climax in unison, and the intense frenetic wonder of it makes me weep bloodtears which mingle with glowing fae tears, and power surges inside me, through me, and water boils and steam skirls and I weep and scream as Caleb and Caspian finally at long last find their rhythm in tandem, fucking me at the same time, both together sliding deep, stretching me to beautiful burn and they come and I come and their roars echo off the ceiling and walls, and darkness washes over us and my blood surges into Alistair's mouth and Fin's cock is huge in my left hand and Stirling's throbs in my right, and fingers circle my clit and the universe explodes—

I'm pulled under, passing into darkness, into The Dreaming.

Even in the endless warm void, they're all around me. Whispering. Touching. Washing. Hands caress my skin, wash me clean, cradle me, carry me. Soft blankets surround me, but I don't want blankets, I want flesh.

I want them.

The gray fog skirls around me, and Wolf's blazing amber eyes greet me.

You passed out, he murmurs, in Caleb's human voice, in my mind.

So wake me up.

You need rest.

I bury my fingers in his fur and smell his presence and somehow the fur is flesh, and the fog dissipates and I have hands which find solid muscle and soft damp hair and begging manhood.

I need my mates. I need my coven. I need more .

What do you want? He asks.

I feel them, all of them here in The Dreaming dark. Waiting. Listening. Loving.

What do I want?

Fin. I want Fin. I want his joy, his flirty jubilance, his humor, his teasing, his solid presence.

Darkness seethes around me. I push it away. Crawl to the surface, toward The Waking.

Light flickers. Dull, orange—a candle flame, a dancing point of light. I smell my men around me, but Fin fills my frame of view, his thick brown hair longer than usual, his eyes void-black as he leans over me, laying beside me.

"Hi," I whisper.

"Hey, you."

"I passed out?"

He grins. "Yeah. You've been out a few hours."

It felt like seconds.

Caleb's hand rests on my belly. Caspian's head is on my thigh. Stirling has my feet in his hands, massaging them. Stirling is behind me, my head on his thighs.

"Kiss me, Fin," I whisper.

He caresses my cheek and lowers to me, and his breath is cool and coppery. His mouth is soft and his tongue eager. For a few moments, we just kiss, and I feel my heart swell with love for Fin, for his steadfastness, his strength, his constant uplifting presence. I wrap my arms around his wide shoulders and pull him to me, and he swings astride me.

"You're sure?" he breathes. "You want this? You want me, Maeve?"

I reach between us and find him ready for me. " So sure, Fin. You're my mate every bit as much as they are. Bonded or not, you're my mate."

Hands caress my thighs and calves, my shoulders and belly, my breasts and throat, everywhere. Hands pull my thighs apart and I guide Fin to me, and his eyes widen and darken as I take him into me.

"Maeve," he breathes. "Oh god, Maeve . You feel—"

"How?" Stirling breathes, at my feet. "Tell us how she feels."

"Heaven," Fin answers. "Like…" He slips deeper, and a growl rattles his chest, and his lips press against my jugular, tongue searing venom and his fangs puncture and I cry out as he drives fully home into me and my blood surges all at once.

"Everything," Fin whispers. "She feels like everything."

I find Caleb's eyes on me, hot and happy, watching me—I find his hand, tangle our fingers. Caspian brings my other hand to his lips and licks me and ecstasy blazes brighter than ever in me as he drinks from my vein, and Stirling now licks a line of icy venom up my thigh from knee to hip, and Fin's body moves beside his mouth as he licks and licks at my femoral artery, high inside my upper thigh, and I cry out as he drinks from me as well.

I roll my hips to meet Fin's and lock eyes with him and feel magic in the air. He moves above me, drives into me—blood trickles down my throat, and he licks it away and his fangs slide into the same holes and the piercing is like sex, and I squeeze around him and touch his mind with mine.

"Fin," I whisper. "I love you, Phineas."

He pulls his fangs free and closes the wound and touches his forehead to mine, and our eyes lock. "Maeve, fuck—oh god, oh god. I'm—Maeve, I have to—I have to…fuck, I love you Mae, oh god…"

Caleb frees my hand so I can cup it against Fin's taut, flexing ass, pulling him harder against me.

" Yes , Fin," I breathe, rocking my hips against him hard and fast. "Show me. Come for me, Fin. Oh god, yes, Fin, yes…yes, you feel so good, Fin—"

I scream into his mouth as he explodes, triggering my own.

"You're mine," he gasps, thrusting deep.

"I'm yours," I echo, feeling a pulse of magic.

"Maeve, fuck, my love—You're mine…I'm yours." He groans as he pours himself into me, pulsing again and again.

"I'm yours, Fin—You're mine." I'm lost in the moment, just Fin and me together, as I realize I've always wanted this, always needed this.

Magic sears out of me once more.

"Yours," he breathes, "Mine."

This time, the pulse of magic is a slow powerful throb, hesitating.

"Mine," I echo Fin. "Yours."

I lash my tongue against his throat and sink my fangs in and draw his blood, and he brings my wrist to his mouth and sips from my vein, and our blood unites and merges and mingles and the magic detonates through us both.

The pulse washes through me in a hot burst, and I hear Fin gasp.

Darkness wells up within me, washes over me, but I cling to Fin and he whispers my name and moves in me and for a moment, there's only him and me, my Fin, his solid weight above me and his wild laughter of pure brilliant joy echoes and I whimper when he pulls away from me.

"Sleep," Caspian whispers.

I groan, shaking my head, still burning up inside, still feverish and frenzied with insatiable need—I need my mates. I need them. I need to taste them and mark them and bind them to me forever.

"What's happening to me?" I ask no one in particular.

"A mating frenzy, five ways," Alistair answers.

"Nothing is enough," I whimper, overwhelmed by the wildfire desperation.

He traces my hair away from my face. "I think you need to mate with each of us to cement the bond."

"The bonds are already cemented, I thought?" I say, looking at him upside down.

My core throbs, and I scent my mates around me, sense their minds, feel their blood singing.

Alistair skates his hands over my shoulders, over my chest, and cups my breasts, toys with them, affectionately thumbing my nipples. I whimper as the touch sends heat billowing through my body, fanning flames of need. "You've cemented the mate bonds with Caleb and Caspian, yes." A pause. "And now with Phineas, too—you've bloodmated with him."

Stirling looks at Fin, lounging beside me, and his eyes are void-black, fangs elongated, and I realize I feel him more acutely, no longer merely sensing his thoughts, his mind, but feeling his body, his emotions—as I can with Caleb and Caspian.

"A bloodmate bond?" I gasp, reaching for Fin's hand. The touch sends a shiver down my skin, and his mind bursts into mine.

Bloodmates. He grins, gleeful. So fucking happy.

I bring him close for a kiss. "Me too, Phineas. I'm fucking ecstatic to be your bloodmate."

I look up at Alistair again. "But the prophecy says I'd have two mates—one of fur and one of fang."

He just shrugs. "Prophecies are fickle and vague. You have a mate of fur and a mate of fang. You fulfilled that part. There's nothing to say you can't and shouldn't have more. It's unheard of, as far as I know, for anyone to have more than one mate. Thus why the prophecy about you having two is so important. But now… five ?" He shakes his head. "You are certainly going to be unique. Or, more unique than ever."

"I thought having other lovers was common?"

"Lovers, yes. A mate, and lovers. People you kiss and touch, and engage in oral and manual sex, yes. Even, if both parties agree, intercourse. But magically bonded mates, plural? No, never. No fae that I've ever heard of, certainly no vampire. Caleb? Shifters?"

Caleb grunts a negative. "No. A pack normally is an alpha with his bonded mate, and he will cement the pack bond sexually with any other females of his pack, but he will only be truly mate-bonded to one."

Stirling's eyes fix on me, staring intently, and it's funny how I can read his emotions so clearly in his eyes, even when they're blacked out, now. His stillness gives him away, too.

Talk to me, Stirling.

He lifts my hand, placing his palm against mine. And say what?

Your thoughts. Your desires. Your needs. Your fears. Anything. Share yourself with me.

He sinks to his back on the bed beside me, Fin taking his place at my feet. I've craved you since the moment I scented you, Maeve. I've only ever gotten a brief taste of you, and… He swallows, closes his eyes.

And what? I roll against him, my breast draping against his chest.

He shakes his head. I should not admit to such weakness.

Yes, you should. It isn't weakness, Stirling. It's just you, and I love you as you are. I trace my finger over the sharp line of his cheekbone, the harsh angle of his jaw, the bow of his lips. I prick my finger on his fang and smear my blood over his lips. Speak the truth to me, Stirling, no matter what it is.

I've been jealous, he says, his voice quiet even in my mind, every inch of him still as stone, as only a vampire can be. I wanted you from the first. I wanted to… have you. I wanted to make love with you, but…you were Caspian's mate, not mine, and such things are…not done.

He licks his lips and turns his head slowly to look at me. Regards me with that deep, inscrutable way of his.

I felt the same Fin says.

Stirling's head whips around to Fin. You heard me? I thought that was just to Maeve.

Fin shrugs. Yeah, I heard it .

Stirling closes his eyes. Fuck .

Caspian grabs Stirling's ankle. You're allowed your feelings, Stirling. I'm sorry you felt that way. I—

I silence Caspian with a look. Palm Stirling's face. Turn his face to mine. I always felt like I wanted more, Stirling. With you. With Fin. With Alistair. In the times we were all together, it just felt right to be with you. Being touched by you. Tasting you. Feeling you. Everything has felt right, every moment, every step of the way.

He opens his eyes and looks at me. __It felt…awful, feeling such intense jealousy. Wanting you so fucking badly and knowing I'd never have you. It's why I was…well…the way I was, with you. I didn't trust myself to not act on my feelings. I wanted you so fucking bad.

I caress his cheek. What do you want, Stirling? Tell me. Show me.

He swallows hard. Maeve, I… He reaches for a tendril of my white-glowing hair, wrapping it around his finger, holding my gaze, searching me. I hold myself open to him, mind, body, and soul. I've kept that desire under such tight lock and key that it's hard to let go.

"But it feels so fucking freeing when you do," Alistair says out loud.

Stirling holds my eyes. "I've loved you from the moment I saw you on our porch. I smelled your blood and…and you were so beautiful, but you were a mortal, and you were Caspian's."

"I'm not mortal anymore," I whisper, sliding my hand over his chest, down to his belly, pausing above his groin. "And I'm not only Caspian's anymore."

Stirling looks to Caspian, and then Caleb, and then Fin. "I want to be yours, too, Maeve. I want you to be mine. I want you to be for me, too."

"So make me yours," I whisper.

He takes my hand in his, kisses the palm. Licks my wrist, but doesn't bite. He lifts my hand up over my head, and Alistair takes my wrist and holds my arm there, and his fingers trace over my wrist where the venom shivers through me. Stirling does the same with my other wrist, licking it and then moving it up overhead.

He rolls against me and moves over me, and Fin takes my ankle and Caleb the other, and I'm held in place, spread open. Stirling licks my thigh, my hip, my navel, my diaphragm, up between my breasts, and the venom boils through me, so much of it I can't breathe for the lust blazing through me, the need raging in me, the mating frenzy now compounded by the venom. But he doesn't stop—he keeps licking. My nipples—again and again, until I'm writhing, panting. And then he laps at my clit and my mates hold me so I can't move, can't thrash, can't shift, can only take what he gives me.

He devours me eagerly, ravenously, until I'm weeping and gasping and panting, but he doesn't let me come, keeps me on the edge until I'm mad with it, thrashing and kicking and screaming, but my mates are too strong, and I don't want to get away, and he licks and licks and licks…

"Stirling, fuck, please!" I beg. "Please, Stirling."

"What do you want, Maeve?"

I meet his eyes. "You. I need you , Stirling."

"Come for me, first. Scream my name while you come."

He nips at the hood of my clit with his fangs, and the sudden burst of pain makes me scream, but then he licks the wound and I scream again, louder, wilder, as the venom enters my bloodstream through the cut, which closes, and then he licks my clit and I shudder at the edge, panting, shivering, shaking, hips lifting in a silent plea.

And then he suckles my clit into his mouth and his fangs are sharp against my soft, sensitive flesh and his tongue is quick and light, and I topple over the edge.

Light bursts behind my eyes and heat shatters through my body and I buck against the hold of my mates, screaming. "Stirling! Stirling! Oh fuck, oh god, Stirling !"

He enters me as I come, and he fills me and his mouth covers mine and he swallows my scream and my mates release me. I wrap myself around him, arms around his shoulders, hands burying in his hair, and my legs hooked around his waist.

I snarl viciously, lick his throat and sink my fangs into him. His blood fills my mouth and floods through me and I burn with exploding magic and detonating love.

He groans long and low, shuddering above me. Slowly, he moves inside me. I rock against him and whisper his name, mind-to-mind, privately.

"Are you mine?" He breathes in my ear.

I slide my fangs free, lick his wound closed, and answer him. "Yes, Stirling. I'm yours." I squeeze around him and drive against him. "And you're mine."

"I've always been yours," he says.

"Mine."

"Yours." He wraps his arms under my neck and thrusts hard into me. "Mine. Mine. Mine."

I push his face away. "Look at me, love." His eyes are voids, but the black clears and emotions are rife and deep in his gaze. "I'm yours, and you are mine."

With Stirling, the magic explodes all at once, shivering down my spine and through my sex, where we're joined, and Stirling's eyes fly wide and he comes, gasping in disbelief, and I keen in my throat as his orgasm triggers mine and we come together as the magic of bonding shimmers and pulses through us. I feel him, now, the chasmic depth of his soul, the wild ferocity of his love.

I feel Caspian, happy for his brother; Fin, joyful as ever; Caleb, aroused and eager.

And Stirling, overwhelmed with relief and joy and love. He collapses on me, panting.

I pull him to me, framing his face in my hands. "I love you, Stirling, my bloodmate."

His eyes shine and blaze. "Love you so fucking much, Maeve." he laughs, a huff of wondrous disbelief. "My bloodmate."

Caleb lounges lazily. "Never knew how hot it could be, watching my mate get so thoroughly loved by other men."

I nudge him with my toe. "Not jealous are you, Wolf?"

He laughs, eyes bright, his posture looser and more relaxed than I've ever seen him. "Not even close. Can't you feel it? I'm happy for you. I'm enjoying watching this." He looks at Alistair, still sitting at the top of the bed, his back to the headboard. "Time to complete the bond, Sparrow-mine."

I sit up and turn to face Alistair. "Only if you're ready."

He seems uncomfortable, being the center of attention. "I've…I've not…been with a woman…in that way. Since Libby."

I crawl closer to him, where he's sitting cross-legged with his knees drawn up, arms around his legs. Head bowed. Shut down, closed off.

Scared.

Hurting.

I touch his hands, resting mine on his. "Hey. It's okay, Alistair. It's okay. We don't need to do anything you're not ready for."

He shakes his head. "That's just it. I'm not sure I'll ever be ready. I…I failed Libby. I killed her. And yes, yes, I know, I have to let it go. I have to forgive myself. But…I'm just a man, you know? It hurt. I died with her. And my capacity for love, it died too." He looks at Caspian, Stirling, and Fin in turn. "You guys have taught me so much, you know. I love you, each of you." His eyes meet mine. "But you, Maeve. You've…brought me back to life. You've given me myself back. I've fed and toyed with mortal women at havens, but…I haven't mated with anyone. I…" he shakes his head, switching to speaking to my mind, but for our whole bond to hear. I watch you with them, with Caspian, and I…I want that. I want to be that free again. I've been imprisoned by my guilt and grief for two hundred and fifty years. Unable to feel desire. To feel…lust. To look at a woman and just want her. And then you came along. A mortal girl of barely nineteen, and I wanted you from the start. And that—it fucking TERRIFIED me. Because I couldn't open myself up to someone else and lose her, too. And you were a mortal—I'd lose you. There was no question. To sickness, or an accident, or other mortals, or just age. And then you bloodmated with Caspian, and like Stirling, I locked that desire away. You weren't for me. And it was best to not…to not have any part of you, to not touch you, to not let myself feel that desire at all. But—but I couldn't stay away. You called to me. Your desire called to me—to mine. You broke through my shell little by little, and you touched me, and I remembered what physical pleasure felt like with another immortal. Because it's truly not the same with a mortal. Physically, it just isn't the same. That night in the cabin, I knew you were something more when you touched me, and it felt like…

He trails off.

I tug his hands apart and place them on my knees, sitting cross-legged facing him, knees to knees. It's just us, now. This is our moment, so long in coming.

"It felt like what, Alistair?" I ask, my voice soft and quiet. Barely a whisper.

"Like coming home," he breathes.

"But I was Caspian's bloodmate, so you pulled away." He nods. "And now?"

He runs his hands up my thighs, gripping them an inch or two below where they crease into my hips. "You made me feel so good, in there," he whispers, looking past me at the door, meaning the bathing chamber. "In a way I've not felt in literal centuries. Physically, yes, the act of…of what you did felt incredible."

I giggle at him. "Say it, Alistair. Don't be so proper. What did I do to you?"

He blushes—the five-hundred-year-old vampire blushes . "Ahhh. You…You put your mouth on—on me."

I wriggle forward and extend my legs, shifting up onto his lap and hooking my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck. "I sucked your big…beautiful…British cock , Alistair," I whisper in his ear. "And I loved every second of it."

His hands run around my thighs and up the outside of my bottom and up my back, his big soft gentle hands caressing my flesh and kneading muscle. "Not as much as I did, I think," he murmurs.

I reach down between our bodies and find his cock, semi-rigid. I caress it, thumb and forefinger first, plunging to his belly. "How's this?" I breathe.

He rests his forehead on my breastbone, and I feel him watching me touch him. "Amazing."

I reach further down and cup his balls, playing with them and rolling them in my fingers. "And that?"

He just grunts. "Embarrassingly incredible."

"Embarrassing? Don't be silly, Alistair. There's nothing embarrassing about enjoying how your mate touches you."

"We've not mated yet."

I stroke his length, guiding his face down to my breasts. "No, not yet. But we will, and you're my mate now, whether we have some magical bond or not. You've always been my mate. Just like Stirling and Fin."

He sighs as his lips touch my nipple, a hot breath over sensitive flesh.

"You truly, truly want to be my mate? To be bonded to me forever?" He says this while looking up at me.

"I truly, truly do. My bond isn't complete without you, my sweet, sweet love. I want you. I need you." I lift up on my knees as his cock surges to full erection, thick and soft as silk yet hard as iron. I guide him to my entrance, nuzzle him just inside my pussy, and wait. Gaze down at him. "Say it, Alistair."

"I'm yours."

I shake my head. "Not that. The other one." I tease him, feathering infinitesimal shivering rolls of my hips around him. "Tell me I'm yours."

He presses his mouth to the skin between my breasts, panting, a soft growl rumbling in his chest. "You're mine, Maeve Sparrow."

I sink down on him, crying out as he fills me to bursting. "Oh fuck, Alistair!"

He groans, and his hands wrap around my hips and his eyes go void, fangs descending. "Maeve, dear god—I…I never knew." His eyes shimmer, bloodtears trickling. I lean down and lick them away, and I feel magic sizzle.

"Never knew… what?" I pant, lifting up.

He cups my ass and bares his teeth, a savage snarl ripping out of him. "How good you would feel."

"Take me, my mate." I sink down, impaling myself on him. "Fuck me. Love me. Show me yourself."

He growls again and drives up into me. I whimper in delight as he fills me, and I dig my fingers into his hair and roll my hips on him. He seizes my nipple in his mouth and flicks it with his tongue, and then nicks my nipple with a fang and the pain is sudden and sharp and delicious and he suckles my nipple and my blood sings and surges and I hold onto his shoulders and ride him with everything I have.

He shows me, my professor. He snarls and growls and grunts and fucks into me mercilessly, ravaging me with his body, licking closed my nipple and cutting open the other and taking more blood, and magic flares and I know the bond is nearly complete.

I push him, and he moves to his back—I tuck my feet beneath my shins and plant my palms on his hard flat stomach and he touches my clit as I lift up and sink down, taking him deep and hard.

I bend over him and mirror his action—nicking his small flat nipple so it bleeds and lapping up the blood, licking and licking, nicking it back open when it closes, and licking and licking as I ride his hot, throbbing cock.

"Maeve…" he reaches up to cradle my face. "Tell me you're mine."

"I'm yours, Alistair."

He grips my hips and guides my movements, hauling me down onto him as he thrusts into me. "Mine."

"Yours, " I agree.

He gasps, tenses, thrusts stuttering as he prepares to come. I lean forward and cling to his neck and give myself over to him—he roars like the predator he is and slams up into me, hard, once—twice—-three times, and then he drives home one more time, claiming my mouth with a harsh desperate bruising kiss and unleashes inside me, pouring into me in a hot flood.

"I love you, I love you, I love you," he breathes, chanting in time to his thrusts.

"I love you, bloodmate," I whisper.

That's when it hits.

A tsunami of magic more powerful than anything I've ever felt. More powerful than the bondmark imprinting itself on my back with Caleb, more powerful than the detonations of the wards.

The earth itself shudders, the bed rocks, a window shatters, and something cracks somewhere outside.

Sharp searing agony slashes through me, a hot line of pain lancing around my right breast, around my arms, over my shoulders—last and sharpest between my breasts. My mates all hiss in surprise.

I open my eyes and sit up, Alistair still hard inside me. I wiggle my hips, and he groans a laugh. I look down.

The swirling lines of white ink outlined in shimmering gold circles my right breast to mirror my left, and now there are five lines in a complex helix around my arms, joining with the wolf head and the fangs on the backs of my hands, rolling up over my shoulders in a spiderweb tangle, and around my throat and down between my breasts where they meet in a hexagram made of six triangles around a hexagon—five of the triangles are filled in with white ink, and one is not; the lines of ink all connect to a point of a triangle, the lone empty triangle without a connecting, corresponding line. The whole thing flares with magic, my hair brightening, that too blazing. My mates all bear the same five lines around their arms, fang and fur on their hands, and the same outline of a five-pointed star on their chests.

"I think that means the bond is complete," I say.

No one says anything.

"Or…almost," Caleb murmurs, touching the empty triangle.

I can't think about what that means. Not now.

I can feel them, each of them, their feelings, their very thoughts, their bodies. Everything. I can tune it out, I think—or at least isolate people as needed. But I don't bother trying right now. I love it, this feeling of soul-deep connection.

Caleb takes my hand. "Can you feel this, Mae?"

Warmth floods me, and my ocean of prana boils alive, brightening, filling.

"Holy shit," I breathe. "You can give it to me?"

Caspian takes my other hand. Considers. Nicks his middle finger, and then mine, and touches our bloody fingertips together. Blood sings and surges, and my fae blood fills him, and his fills me, mixing, merging.

Caspian's outline shimmers and fades, and shadows seethe around him. "I feel like I could fly," he murmurs.

"I think all five of us bonding has made all of us more powerful," Alistair says. "We share a single pool of power—Maeve."

At that moment, the door to the bedroom slams open, shuddering and banging. "Sorry to interrupt," Colin says, breathless, "But you have to see this. Now. GET IN HERE, GUYS !"

The pack swarms in, and they all crowd close, even Sierra, and no one seems to notice or perhaps not care that I'm still impaled on Alistair. I subtly slip off him and sit back down on his lap, turning to look at what Colin is showing us.

An iPad showing a newscast.

A male reporter wearing a blue UN helmet with the UN logo faces the camera, speaking into a microphone while touching his right ear.

"The scene here in Manhattan, at the heart of Times Square, is one of mayhem and violence," He says in a crisp, quick British accent. "Behind me you see the ranks of armed fighters bearing the flag of the self-proclaimed Mortal Federation. They're well-armed, well-funded, and have the support of what was just last week the United States Government, which, as most everyone has heard by now, has seemingly disintegrated into disorganized components. This historic dissolution began a week ago when the president, from the Oval Office, behind the Resolute Desk, removed her mask and declared herself to be an immortal. This prompted a wave of declarations from across the many arms of the government as more and more government official revealed their natures. The Mortal Federation has risen from the ashes, led by none other than Nathaniel Bridgestone, the mortal five-star general who was the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff—and vehemently outspoken opponent of the immortals, whose existence we've all just discovered."

He turns and the camera follows him, showing a different group—where the first group was organized and uniformed and modern, this second is ragtag, a gathering of civilians. Immortals. Fae, shifters, and vampires. Unmasked, unblooded, some in animal form.

The tension is palpable even through the screen.

"Fuck," someone around me mutters.

The reporter turns back to the camera, which follows him as he scrambles away so he's not between the two groups, which must number in the thousands. He puts his back to a wall, touching his ear. "I'm receiving reports that scenes just like this one are playing out all over the world—in London, Moscow, Hong Kong, Paris, Rio De Janeiro…the list is too long to repeat. Skirmishes have been breaking out for weeks, as this reporter has covered, but this is the first meeting of organized forces—mortals against immortals. The immortals—who style themselves The Army of the Once-Mortal Queen—claim to not want war, but the Mortal Federation's responses, so far, have been less than receptive."

At that moment, a figure paces away from the Mortal Federation, a tall, uniformed figure. "Surrender, freaks and creatures!" He shouts, the words picked up by the reporter's microphone.

A figure emerges from the ranks of immortals. "We want justice! We want equality!"

"America for Mortals!" Someone shouts on the mortal side.

"We are Americans, just like you!" The immortal—a young male fae—shouts. "We just want to live in peace. We aren't here to fight. We just want to be heard!"

The mortal leader palms a pistol and aims it. "Hear this, freak." He fires.

The fae throws up a shield just in time, and then chaos erupts as guns fire and creatures snarl and fireballs are launched and lightning flashes.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" someone shouts—me. "Stop! STOP !"

I grab the iPad and watch in horror as mortals die and immortals bleed—they're outnumbered, and soon the battle is impossible to follow.

After a moment, the sides briefly separate, and bodies litter the ground.

An immortal, a vampire, launches herself at the mortals. "For Maeve!" She screams. "For the Once-Mortal Queen!"

Tears slip down my cheeks. "No, no, no ."

I look around at my mates, my pack. No one speaks. No one even breathes.

I look back at the screen. A purple hastaxi orb carves through the mortal ranks. A blast shakes the screen—a tank rumbles into view.

The feed cuts off.

It seems I've started a war.