Chapter 50

“Mommy!” My three-year-old daughter tugs incessantly at my skirt, demanding my attention. “I want juice box.” I turn my attention away from her twin brother to smile down at her.

“Did you already ask Daddy Kai?”

“I want juice box,” she insists, tugging again. I smirk at her indulgently.

“But did you already ask Daddy Kai?” I press, reaching blindly for her tiny shoulder.

“Yes…” I can tell from her wobbly voice that her lower lip is trembling.

“And what did he say?”

“Daddy Kai meany! He say no!” She stomps a foot as I bite down on my lip to hold in my laughter.

“And why did he say no, baby?”

“Cuz I have one,” she whines, and I finally give in and giggle, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead.

“You know you’re only allowed to have one open at a time. Where did you put the juice box we already gave you?”

“Daddy Rion took it to space!” she declares immediately, and my smile broadens.

“Oh, did he?”

“I’m innocent!” The man in question screams from directly behind me. I slide into his eyes just in time to see him pick up Carter, our devious son. We can’t be certain—we decided not to do a paternity test—but we think Carter is Abel’s biological child. He has his father’s mischievous streak. No doubt, the three-year-old is thinking of ways to steal a new juice box for his sister. He’s already fiercely protective of her. I can’t even imagine how he’ll be when they’re older.

“So you didn’t send Callie’s juice box to outer space?” I ask my crazy shifter husband, cocking an eyebrow.

He steps towards me and plants a tender, mind-numbing kiss on my lips. I immediately try to deepen it…before remembering we have two toddlers staring up at us with wide, innocent eyes.

But every day I fall even more in love with my mates until it feels like I’m bursting from it. And every day I desire them even more. I didn’t think it was even possible to love them as much as I do, but I desire them with a ferocity capable of pulling the moon from the sky.

“That would involve me building a rocket,” Rion murmurs as he pulls away from me. “And the last time I tried to build a rocket ship…”

“You blew up the entire garage,” I finish with a laugh.

“Abel dared me,” Rion defends immediately. “And you know I can’t say no to dares involving rocket ships.”

“How many dares involving rocket ships have you?—”

Rion interrupts me with a kiss I can feel in my very soul. My toes curl up in my shoes, and I half expect my wings to burst from my back and fly me towards the sun.

The last three years…

They’ve been heaven.

The cabin Gemma gifted us is as far back into the forest as possible. It’s a spacious, three-story manor with over fifteen bedrooms and ten and a half bathrooms. It has everything I never knew I needed.

Even a torture room for Rion and Damien, though the two like to pretend I don’t know it exists.

The walls and floors are constructed of unpainted wood, but instead of giving the cabin a rustic aesthetic, it looks surprisingly modern. The black leather couches immediately to the left of the main entrance are arranged in a semicircle around a flatscreen TV and provide a hint of color to the brown room. All of the appliances are sparkling new and either white or black. At first, I thought the monotonous colors gave the room a masculine flare, but the hint of beige and pink throughout softens it. Windows take up the entire back wall of the cabin. Bulletproof, of course. They let in so much sunlight that most days, we don’t bother turning on any lamps.

Bronson was right. The three times the officials came to look for us, we knew two days in advance and were able to hide in the surprisingly cozy caves. But we haven’t had anyone search for us in years. Not after…

Not after the Labyrinth failed and hundreds of prisoners escaped, most of them significantly more dangerous than me and my men. I always feel a stab of guilt in my chest when I think of all of those criminals free in the world, but Kai assures me time and time again that it’s not my fault. It’s not Nick’s fault either. Still, his soothing words do very little to assuage my guilt.

Only a few weeks after I heard on the news that the prisoners escaped, I received a phone call from Braelyn. She’s living in Spain now with Jenny and is happier than ever. They told me Haley escaped as well, though they don’t know where she’s hiding, only that she hasn’t been caught.

Rebecca was killed during the escape. Shot down by guards.

I cried for days when I heard the news, though I couldn’t help but notice the strange look on Kai’s face when he thought no one was looking.

Still, I count my blessings every day that Braelyn and Jenny are alive and flourishing. They may not have been the best people in the world, but they’re my friends. Hopefully, I’ll be able to see them again.

My stomach chooses that moment to twist uncomfortably, and I release a groan of pain.

“Mommy!” Callie screams in alarm, and Rion spins to face me. I hear the pound of footsteps, and a moment later, the room is full of testosterone.

“I’m fine!” I assure my mates, waving them away. “The baby just kicked.”

“Because he’s fierce like his daddy,” Bronson says smugly, placing a hand on my lower back and rubbing gently.

“Um…he’s a hugger, not a fighter,” Logan protests. “I’m sure of it.”

“He’s already thinking of ways to stab all of you in the neck,” deadpans Damien. Abel and Cain both cackle.

“Did he just make a joke?” Abel asks, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye. “I think we’re growing on him.” When Damien swivels his gaze in Abel’s direction, my trickiest demon pales and attempts to hide behind Cain. “I’m just kidding. He’s still scary as fuck.”

“And don’t you forget it,” Damien snaps, but the second he turns away, I can see his lips tugging into a grin. And when our little girl throws herself at his legs, that grin transforms into a full-blown smile, one that radiates from his eyes. “Hey, baby,” he says as he scoops her up.

“Daddy D!” She burrows her face into his neck. “Daddy Rion put me juice box in space!”

“LIES!” Rion shouts, aghast. “I would never.”

“And Daddy Kai says no more juice box.”

Kai rolls his eyes, absently scratching at the bandage on his upper arm. Just a few days ago, he got another tattoo to join the numerous ones already present.

My name in a heart surrounded by the names of our children. He left blank spaces above and below to add when we have more kids.

“You already have a juice box, Callie,” he reprimands. “You know what we said about lying.”

“You lying!” Carter immediately shouts, always rushing to defend his sister.

“Yeah!” Callie agrees.

“I just need to lie down a bit,” I tell my husbands. “I swear this pregnancy is causing me more pain than the last one.”

Though unlike my last pregnancy, this one doesn’t include amplified powers. At least, that’s the running theory to explain the magic I exuded that day in the prison yard. The babies’ magic combined with my own gave me the strength to protect myself and my men. We haven’t been able to test this theory with the new baby—mostly because I haven’t been placed in any life-threatening situations since we arrived—but we believe that if I was threatened, my natural powers would combine with the magic of our child.

But it’s just theory, and none of my men are willing to put it to the test.

“I will take her,” Nick offers before any of my other mates can say anything. I smile softly at him as he scoops me up and cradles me against his chest. His warm breath caresses my ear as he whispers, “And if you do not want to rest…” He trails off suggestively, and I grin.

“Lead the way.”

Ignoring the rest of my mates’ grumbles, and the squeals of delight from Callie as Damien gives in and hands her a second juice box, Nick leads us to the master bedroom.

Gemma designed this one specifically for us. Originally, it was four rooms side by side, but the construction team broke down all the walls and a custom-made bed was placed inside. It’s easily the width of three king-sized mattresses, with sheets sewn from some of the women in the pack.

Bronson was right again—we really are one big family.

It makes my life ten times easier when we need to find a babysitter.

Nick gently places me on the bed before crawling in after me. He presses a tender kiss to my belly before moving his lips to the valley between my breasts.

“If there’s one thing I love about being pregnant,” I begin as he sucks my nipple through the material of my dress, “it’s having big boobs.”

“You always have big boobs, little one,” Nick assures me, as candid as always. That’s one thing that will never change.

That, and his hatred towards contractions. I can’t remember a time I heard him say “don’t” or “they’re” or “haven’t.”

It doesn’t help matters that my other idiotic mates convinced Nick when we first started dating that I only love men who talk “fancy” with big words.

I legit had to buy a dictionary on our second date.

Nick slides my straps down my arm and pushes my dress beneath my breasts, capturing my nipple in his mouth.

“Nick,” I moan, running my fingers through his tight black curls. His hair has grown longer since I first met him, just over three years ago, but I love it even more now. Especially since Nick seems to like it when I pull on the strands during sex.

“Nina.” He chuckles against my boob as he lifts his head and claims my lips once more. He’s very, very careful not to place his body on top of mine. Instead, he rests all of his weight on his elbows as he hovers over me.

Protecting me and my unborn baby.

Like always.

He presses his lips to my neck and creates a blazing trail down my breasts, then over my stomach, and finally to my wet core. He shifts to his knees and rips my dress down the middle, baring my flesh to him.

When he doesn’t immediately touch me, I wiggle uncomfortably.

“You are not wearing any panties,” he muses in wonder, placing one finger into my tight channel and swirling it through my juices.

I blush when I think about the way Rion and Damien tag-teamed me only a few hours earlier. Damien pocketed my underwear, and I forgot to put on a new pair.

“That is…so sexy.” He lowers himself between my legs and tentatively rests his tongue against my flesh. He doesn’t lick me right away. Instead, he simply sits there, as if he’s memorizing my flavor.

“Nick!” I beg, thrusting my hips into his mouth.

He chuckles, the dark, delicious sound flooding my system until I’m consumed by him and only him. “So eager, little one.”

He places his dark hands beneath both of my thighs and lifts them up until they’re resting on his shoulders.

And then, he feasts.

Unlike my other lovers, who have way more experience than I care to admit, Nick learned my body and my body alone. Through trial and error, he figured out exactly what I liked and how I liked it. Which spots make me gasp and have my hips bucking.

So when his tongue circles my sensitive bundle of nerves, I just about jump out of my skin. And when his teeth graze my clit and his fingers scissor inside my channel, I begin to cry, begging for release.

“Nick!” I beg tearfully, but instead of giving me what I want, he pulls away and stands. I hear the sound of fabric hitting the ground and spread my legs even wider. He settles his huge body on top of me, kissing the corner of my lips.

I don’t need vision to know that Nick is a chiseled work of art. Dark skin, sinewy muscles, a face capable of making angels weep…

And mine.

He’s all mine.

His thick cock teases my entrance, wetting itself on my arousal.

“Are you ready for me?” he whispers as he kisses me once more.

“Always, my love,” I reply as he thrusts himself inside of me. We both groan at the contact, and he pauses, allowing me a second to adjust to his considerable girth, before he begins to rock his hips.

He makes love to me slowly, languidly, both of us knowing we have all the time in the world.

There are no prison guards threatening us.

No Compound coming for my blood.

No assassins.

Just us, our family, and our future.

Nick thrums my clit as if it’s a string on the guitar he’s been learning to play. Damien has been a great teacher.

In more ways than one, if the way Nick controls my body and pleasure is any indication.

“Come for me, Nina,” Nick whispers, and we reach the precipice together. It’s slow and beautiful and earth-shattering. It’s that sensation you get when you climb the highest mountain and look down at the landscape below. When you feel so inconsequential and insignificant in comparison to the world as a whole.

And my family?

They are my world.

Ecstasy rips me apart and then stitches me back together. Or maybe that’s just him and his talented cock. Either way, I’m ruined.

“You didn’t tell us you were going to have an orgy!” Rion says, bursting into the room. I don’t bother to cover myself as I turn my blind gaze in his general direction.

“It’s not an orgy with two people, Mr. Scruffles,” I tease. “But you’re more than welcome to join in.”

“Don’t mind if I do…” Before he can shut the door completely, I hear more footsteps entering. I slip into Nick’s eyes to see that all of my mates are surrounding the bed, half of their clothes discarded on the floor.

“Wait!” I protest around a laugh as I greedily drink up all of my men on display. Damien’s shirt is half unbuttoned, showing off the sculpted planes of his chest. The twins are entirely naked and are already stroking their erect cocks. Kai has his shirt off, and Bronson is removing his clothes as we talk. Logan is simply standing beside me, staring down at my flushed and naked body with his baby-blue eyes blanketed in heat and desire.

And Rion? He’s already climbing onto the bed and dangling his cock above my head.

“Open sesame!” he declares, poking my cheek with his dick. I laugh and twist my head away—only to have Abel do the exact same thing on the other side. I’m suddenly surrounded by naked men and cocks. Lots and lots of cocks.

“Wait!” I protest, giggling. “What about the?—”

“Mom took them for the night,” Bronson explains, placing a hand on my pregnant belly. “So tonight, you’re ours.”

I suddenly find myself on the receiving end of eight lustful stares. Heat blazes through my body, and I tighten my thighs around Nick’s waist, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure in my core. I’m afraid to admit that I actually whimper, so consumed by the love I feel for all of them.

I love them all. And I’ll make sure to tell them every day for the rest of my life.

Our story is not a traditional fairy tale. How can it be when my men baptized themselves in blood and became knights of darkness and sin?

But it’s our story.

A story full of pain and heartache. Of betrayal and regrets. Of fear and happiness. It’s a story of first love and old love, of friends and enemies.

And just like with all romances, my story ends in a happily ever after.

“Maybe,” I begin slowly, flashing them a smile. “Maybe, you guys are mine.”

Through Nick’s eyes, I watch all of my men grin hungrily down at me.

“Yours,” they agree at once, their voices blending together.

Mine. Yours.

Ours.

Forever and always.

The way it was always meant to be.

I was blindly indicted, imprisoned for a crime I didn’t commit, but I fell in love. I fell in love eight separate times with eight incredible men.

And that love freed me, both metaphorically and literally.

It acquitted me.

And I’ve never been happier.