Chapter 20

CHAPTER TWENTY

S prawled in a living room chair, Fell scowled at the apartment window where the last remnants of the sun had disappeared. Winter sucked. The world turned black just after four fucking o'clock—and didn't that just suit his mood.

"You look like a gnome chewed on your tail," Patrin said. His sleeves were pushed up, showing the scratches Moya had left on his forearms.

Fell was slightly envious, although he had crescent-shaped fingernail marks on his shoulder. Made his cock stir every time he moved and felt them.

Which accounted for his foul frame of mind. "Thinking about her."

Patrin glanced in the direction of Moya's apartment, showing he followed exactly who "her" was. "The thoughts don't make you happy?"

"Last night was great." Their time with the feisty female had been like nothing he'd ever experienced before. The act of mating had been sublime, but it was more than that. The way she touched them and the look in her eyes as if she really cared…or more.

He couldn't refuse to admit he wanted her, cared for her. With everything in him.

But…

He ran his hand through his hair in frustration. How to say this? By the Gods, talking with his littermate wasn't usually a problem. "Brawd, how much of her…affection…was due to the full moon heat?"

Brows drawing together, Patrin set down the carton of milk he'd taken from the fridge. "She… I…don't know." His mouth tightened. "Yeah, now I'm sharing your mood. Thanks for that."

Fell nodded at his brother's reaction. "You feel it, too, that we have something special with her."

Because he wanted them to lay their hearts at her feet in the same way they'd bring her a plump rabbit for her dinner.

"Yeah, I did." Patrin shook his head. "I do."

Now they just had to figure out what she felt for them.

Leaning over the stove, Moya breathed in. The comforting aroma of the lentejas mingled with the fragrance of the pan de barra just out of the oven. Bread and a hearty stew were a classic for a reason.

When possible after a Gathering, Moya would take a long decadent bath to soak away any soreness, get a few hours of sleep, and then cook her favorite foods. After a night of feeling more like a body than a person, she usually needed the self-cosseting.

Today, she felt different—not like merely a body.

She'd been the only female Patrin and Fell mated last night. The wonder still shook her. She wasn't just a body to them—they knew her, were her friends, and cared about her. It'd shown in everything they did while mating with her.

Even when ordering her around.

But despite staying in charge, Patrin had used only his voice and his hands. He was totally dominant, just by being himself. He'd said he wouldn't use the pack bonds, and he hadn't.

He was worthy of her trust.

Why did the sweetness of that make her want to cry?

She sniffled—and then laughed, remembering her checklist of bath, sleeping, baking. The first thing had been a long hot bath for aches and pains—and Gods, this time, she'd definitely been sore.

A hot tingle ran through her as she remembered Patrin's length and Fell's girth. They'd filled her so very full…and had taken her over and over.

Mmmm.

The sigh she gave was too much like some swooning historical romance heroine. Don't be a bramble-bitten birdbrain. The night had been wonderful, but the Gathering was over.

It was time to re-enter the real world.

Shifters were tied to the moon, emotionally, physically, and spiritually, and as everyone knew, passions raised beneath a full moon rarely continued past dawn. Far too many shifters made fools of themselves thinking they'd started the most wonderful of romances only to learn the other shifter had simply been in heat.

The light of day had come and—she glanced at the dark window— was gone again.

I'm no swooning heroine.

Perhaps, the MacCormac brothers were tail-over-snout in love with her. If so, they hadn't said anything.

Wasn't it a shame bonds didn't gift a shifter with mind-reading abilities? Aside from permitting disgusting alpha commands that were less telepathy and more a one-word emotion— stay, come, adore me— the bonds were worthless for helping communication .

A wolf had to use their words. And there had been no words.

The three of them had enjoyed a sexy Gathering together. Possibly whatever they had together would grow to more. She rubbed the heel of her hand over her chest. The glimpse of a future where they cared about her the way she cared about them made her heart yearn.

If she wanted more, she might have to start the discussion. Patrin and Fell hadn't had a normal growing up time, And face it, very few males enjoyed sharing their feelings. Or maybe they weren't as far along the trail to caring as she was.

So… Okay, I'll give them time—like a month?—and then tell them how I feel.

Inside, her anxiety warred with determination. I can do this.

For now, they'd be friends, with an occasional benefit, as the humans would say. And she'd enjoy what they had together. Time with them was never wasted. I can handle this.

A firm knock on her door made her jump. Who was visiting? Not her brothers or Talitha's family for a Sunday meal, not after a Gathering. To compensate for hours in the noisy, crowded house, most shifters chose to do something quiet and peaceful the following day.

Maybe it was Patrin or Fell? A surge of anticipation made her suck in a breath.

She opened the door, and her heart did a happy somersault.

Dammit, heart, didn't we have this talk?

"Um, hi. What's up?"

His expression unreadable, Patrin put two fingers under her chin, then bent and kissed her lightly, yet lingering until the temperature in the room rose five degrees. He nibbled down her jaw, down her neck, then inhaled deeply.

When he stepped back, he was smiling. "Good evening, pretty wolf."

She stared at him. His kiss was much more intense than one from a mere neighbor with benefits.

Huffing a laugh, Fell pulled her against him, and took her lips, not lightly at all. Deep and wet and thorough.

So nice. Warmth blossomed low in her belly.

Lifting his head, he rubbed his cheek against hers, like an affectionate feline rather than a wolf. "Oh yeah. Fuck the full moon."

Patrin laughed, and then asked her, "Are you hungry?"

"Am I…what?" Their behavior was as scrambled as a tree fairy's after an orchard pruning.

"Hungry. It happens when stomachs get empty," Patrin said.

Fell hadn't released her, and she was far too aware of his hands on her waist. Of his so-very-male woodsy scent.

She swallowed. Why were they acting like this? Like they were her lovers or something. Breathe, girl .

She took that breath and then another before looking up.

Fell was watching her like a famished wolf stalking a breakfast bunny.

"You look hungry," she blurted.

Crinkles appeared at the corners of his eyes. "Yeah. Very, very hungry." He rubbed his knuckles along the side of her breast.

The rushing heat almost made her knees buckle.

"Bad beta." Chuckling, Patrin shouldered Fell to one side. "Sorry, Moya. We came over to see if you wanted to eat with us. Guess we got distracted."

Oh. Maybe their affection was simply lingering from the full moon. She shouldn't read anything else into it.

She was totally running the trail toward heartbreak. Hadn't she just told herself no benefits?

But…do I want to live my life in fear of being hurt? Is that truly living?

Sure, there would be pain when they inevitably backed away, but… Losing people was part of life. Older shifters, even when mourning a mate, would say love was a gift from the Mother, and they had no regrets for embracing it.

So, she'd face up to being hurt when the time came—and would celebrate every moment with them until then. "Actually, why don't you join me? The bread just came out of the oven."

"You made bread?" Fell stared at her as if she'd turned into the goddess right before his eyes.

She had to laugh. "I did—it's to go with the lentejas ." At their confused expressions, she added, "It's a stew with lentils and chorizo. You'll like it."

Patrin wrapped an arm around her waist. "Sounds good. Afterward, we can share dessert, brawd…if our little wolf will invite us to spend the night."

His scent, the nip of teeth on her neck, and the rumble of need told her what— who —would be dessert. Even better, the appallingly dominant wolf was waiting for an invite rather than assuming.

And then his words registered. Our little wolf. Spend the night.

Happiness bubbled through her. They did want to be…together. Not forever, maybe not. Or maybe someday? For now? She'd celebrate what they had. "Yes. Yes, yes, yes."