Chapter 10: Ivy

Chapter

Ten

IVY

I stare into the darkness beyond the cave entrance, watching the swirling snow slowly erase any trace of the Knight's passage. His massive form had melted into the shadows like a ghost, those chains dragging behind him leaving deep furrows that are already filling with fresh powder.

Wraith shifts beside me, his scarred face pressed into my neck as he breathes in my scent. A low rumble vibrates through his chest. Not quite a purr, but close. His sharp teeth graze my skin with exquisite care as he holds me closer.

He'd noticed the Knight leaving, too, and was ready to spring into action. But he'd listened when I shook my head.

My heart aches, remembering the soft, hollow growl the Knight had given when we briefly made eye contact as he left the cave. Not threatening, just a clear message to stay behind.

To stay safe.

To let him go his own way.

I understood.

Sometimes the kindest thing you can do for someone is let them find their own path.

On my other side, Valek's head rests against my thigh, his silver eyes half-lidded but alert. The drugs seem to be wearing off somewhat, though he still has that lazy, dangerous grin playing at the corners of his bloodied mouth. For all his theatrics earlier, he's been surprisingly well-behaved since we settled in.

I'm still furious, but the chewing out he deserves for everything he put me through—put allof us through—is going to have to wait considering how narrowly we just escaped with our lives.

And he's clearly still high as a damn kite.

A muffled thud echoes from deeper in the cave, followed by what sounds suspiciously like a growl. My ears prick. Whiskey and Plague disappeared back there a while ago, and I haven't heard them bickering in some time.

Strange.

I start to shift, trying to extricate myself from the tangle of limbs, but Wraith's strong arms lock around me.

"I'll be right back," I whisper, touching his arm. "I just want to check on them."

"Is our sweet little omega curious about what two alphas can do in the dark?" Valek drawls, his accent thick with lingering intoxication.

I feel my face flush hot. "That's not—they wouldn't?—"

Valek's grin widens.

Now I really want to know what's going on back there.

Wraith growls softly but loosens his grip, letting me slip free. The cold hits me immediately and I shiver, pulling their borrowed shirts tighter around me. Valek makes a disappointed sound as I stand, reaching for my ankle, but I step out of his grasp.

"Behave," I tell them both. Wraith just looks worried, while Valek's grin takes on a distinctly wicked edge.

"Always, my blood-haired goddess," he purrs.

I ignore him and pick my way carefully through the darkness, following the sounds deeper into the cave. The ceiling gets lower, forcing me to duck in places.

Another growl reaches my ears, followed by what definitely sounds like a moan. My heart starts racing.

Surely they aren't...

But Valek's words echo in my head. The air does smell different back here. Muskier, headier. Like the scent that filled my room during my heat.

My heart pounds against my ribs as I inch closer, drawn by the muffled sounds echoing off the cave walls. The scent grows stronger with each step. Heat pools low in my belly as memories of my time with the pack flood back.

Maybe I should turn around.

But my feet carry me forward until I can make out their shapes in the dim light filtering through from the main cavern.

My breath catches in my throat.

Whiskey is on his knees, his massive frame oddly vulnerable as Plague looms over him. One of Plague's hands is tangled in Whiskey's hair while the other covers his own mouth, muffling his sounds. Even in the darkness, I can see the way Whiskey's jaw stretches around Plague's knot, his throat working as he swallows, his fingers digging into the ground for purchase like he's trying not to fucking drown.

The raw need in Plague's usually cold eyes as he stares down at Whiskey makes my knees weak. His precise control is completely shattered, replaced by something primal and hungry. His hips twitch forward in desperate bucks as his knot pulses.

My thighs press together as I watch them, heat pooling low in my belly. I should feel guilty for spying, but I can't look away. Whiskey already painted a colorful picture for me, but seeing it is another matter entirely. I never imagined how the sight of Whiskey on his knees, throat working as he swallows around Plague's knot, would affect me.

"Stay still," Plague breathes, his voice raw and wrecked as he rolls his hips against Whiskey's face. Nothing like his usual clinical tone. "Let me…"

Whiskey moans around him, the vibration echoing off the cave walls. His own cock stands rigid between his legs, leaking onto the stone floor. But he keeps his hands on Plague's thighs, holding him steady.

My mouth goes dry as I watch a trickle of come escape the corner of Whiskey's stretched mouth. My core throbs with need and I press my thighs tighter together, trying to relieve the growing ache.

Plague's head falls back against the stone, his usual perfect composure completely gone. His chest heaves with each ragged breath as his knot continues to pump load after load down Whiskey's throat.

He rolls his hips carefully, testing. Whiskey gags slightly but takes him deeper, his throat visibly working around Plague's length. The sight makes me bite my lip to stifle a whimper.

I can't tear my eyes away from them. My hand slips beneath Whiskey's shirt that hangs like a dress on me, trailing up my thigh. Every nerve ending feels electrified as I watch Plague praise Whiskey, his usually cold voice rough with need.

"Good boy. So perfect. So..."

The words dissolve into a groan that sends heat straight to my core. My fingers find slick heat as I slowly sit on the cave floor and touch myself, moving in slow circles. The way Whiskey's throat works as he swallows around Plague's knot, the way Plague's fingers card through his hair almost tenderly… it's so hot, I don't know what to do with myself.

I bite my lip to stay quiet as pleasure builds, not wanting to give myself away. But fuck, watching them together... seeing Plague completely lose control, seeing Whiskey so submissive...

My hips rock against my hand as I imagine what it would be like to be between them. A whimper escapes me as the hilt of Plague's cock pulses visibly, drawing a muffled moan from the larger alpha. My fingers move faster, matching the rhythm of Plague's shallow thrusts. The wet sounds of my own arousal mix with their muffled groans.

Time seems to stretch like honey as I watch them, lost in my own building pleasure. My free hand slides up under the layers of their shirts to palm my breast, pinching and rolling my nipple. Every broken sound that escapes them sends electricity through my body.

My fingers move in tight circles as I watch Plague's knot pulse in Whiskey's stretched mouth. Every time he swallows another surge of come, heat coils tighter in my core. The way Plague's fingers rake through Whiskey's hair, alternating between gentle praise and iron control, makes my thighs tremble.

Whiskey moans around him, the sound muffled and desperate. His massive frame trembles as Plague's knot continues to pump load after load down his throat. I can see tears at the corners of his eyes from the strain, but he doesn't pull back. Doesn't try to escape.

Just takes everything Plague gives him.

My breath catches as Plague's hips jerk forward involuntarily, driving deeper. Whiskey gags slightly but recovers quickly, relaxing his throat. The sight sends electricity straight to my core. I press my palm flat against myself, grinding against it as I watch them.

My fingers slip inside as my mind keeps darting between the present and what it would feel like to be between them. To have Plague's surgical hands on me while Whiskey...

Another whimper escapes me before I can stifle it. Neither of them seem to notice, lost in their own world. The base of Plague's knot throbs visibly as he rolls his hips, testing Whiskey's limits. The larger alpha just takes it, his throat working overtime.

My fingers move faster as I watch come leak from the corners of Whiskey's stretched mouth. He swallows desperately but there's too much. It drips down his chin in thick rivulets, and the sight makes me press a second finger inside myself.

Whiskey hisses through his teeth as Plague's knot shrinks enough to slip free. He collapses back against the wall, working his jaw. Come and spit drip down his chin onto his broad chest.

I should look away.

Should feel guilty for watching.

Instead, I press a third finger inside myself as Plague slides down to sit in front of Whiskey. His usually perfect hair is a mess, skin flushed.

"Well," he says, voice hoarse. "That was... informative."

"Shut the fuck up," Whiskey rasps. "Before I punch you in your pretty face."

"You think my face is pretty?"

The familiar bickering makes me smile even as I rock against my hand. Some things never change. Whiskey lunges and for a split second, I think I'm going to have to out myself just to break up a fight, but then he stumbles and Plague catches him.

"Careful," Plague murmurs. "You'll be off balance for several minutes post-orgasm."

"I hate you so fucking much."

"I know."

But then Plague's hand wraps around Whiskey's cock and everything changes again.

"My turn," he purrs.

My fingers work faster inside me as I watch Plague straddle Whiskey's lap in one fluid motion. His movements are precise, calculated, even now. He pins Whiskey's cock between their bodies, trapping it against Whiskey's stomach as his hands roam over the larger alpha's broad chest.

"Look at you," Plague murmurs, fingers trailing down Whiskey's heaving torso. "You drank so much. No wonder you look like you're going to be sick."

Whiskey just moans, his head falling back against the stone. His massive frame trembles beneath Plague's lean body as those surgeon's hands work over his stomach, alternating between gentle strokes and rough grabs that make him gasp and growl.

"Nothing to say?" Plague's voice carries that sharp edge that clearly drives Whiskey crazy. "No smartass comments? You must really be feeling it."

I bite my lip to stifle a whimper as I watch them, pressing my fingertips against my spot. The stretch burns so good as Plague continues to torment Whiskey, those clever hands mapping every inch of the larger alpha's body. Whiskey writhes beneath him, completely at his mercy.

"Please," Whiskey groans, his voice wrecked. "Just... fucking do something..."

"I am doing something." Plague's hand slides lower, wrapping around both their cocks. Not fully, but enough. "I'm conducting a very important experiment on the effects of overstimulation on alpha subjects who have consumed too much come via oral knotting."

Even in this state, he can't help himself. Always the scientist.

"That's fucking niche," Whiskey mutters.

I press deeper inside myself as Plague starts stroking them both together. The sight of their cocks sliding against each other makes my core throb. Whiskey's hands clutch uselessly at the stone floor, his whole body shaking.

"Look how desperate you are. Just like last time," Plague purrs, twisting his wrist in a way that makes Whiskey arch off the ground. "So needy. So full of my come."

Plague splays his palm over Whiskey's stomach and presses down roughly, earning a muffled woof out of him.

"You're mine now," Plague growls, all detachment gone from his voice as he strokes them both together with his other hand. The sight of their cocks sliding against each other, slick with come, sends electricity straight through me. "Say it."

"Fuck you," Whiskey pants, but his hips buck up desperately into Plague's grip.

Plague twists his wrist again, making Whiskey's head fall back with a strangled moan. "Wrong answer." He stills his hand completely. "Beg for it."

I bite my lip hard to stifle a whimper as I work another finger inside myself, matching their rhythm. The stretch is electrifying as I watch Plague dominate the larger alpha. My other hand pinches and rolls my nipple, sending sparks throughout my body.

"Please," Whiskey finally groans, his massive frame trembling. "Please... I need..."

"Need what?" Plague's voice is pure silk wrapped around steel. "Be specific."

"Need to come," Whiskey gasps. His hands scrabble against the stone floor. "Please, I can't... fuck ... I'm yours. Just let me fucking come."

"Good boy." Plague starts stroking them both again, faster now. The wet sounds of skin on skin echo off the cave walls, mixing with their harsh breathing and my own muffled whimpers. "Your voice is much less grating when you're desperate and begging."

My core clenches around my fingers.

"Close?" Plague purrs, his hand moving faster on their cocks. Whiskey just nods frantically, beyond words. "Grovel."

"Why?" Whiskey chokes out. "For what?"

"Because you piss me off," Plague says flatly.

"Sorry," Whiskey growls. He lets out a strangled cry as Plague squeezes the fuck out of their cocks, crushing their knots together, his head falling back against the stone. "Just please…"

"Not good enough." Plague's hand stills completely, drawing a moan from Whiskey that makes my core clench. "You're sorry for being a reckless barbarian. For never listening. For questioning my judgment at every turn."

"Yes," Whiskey gasps. "Yes, fuck, I'm sorry..."

Plague leans down, his lips brushing Whiskey's ear. "And?"

"And I need you," Whiskey chokes out. His hips buck desperately, seeking friction. "Need..."

"Keep going." Plague's voice is sharper now. "A full confession, if you please."

My thighs tremble as I work another finger inside myself. Every broken sound that escapes Whiskey's lips sends electricity through my body.

"Your hands," Whiskey chokes out. He trembles as Plague's free hand trails down his belly. "I need you to let me fucking come. I know I don't deserve it. Just please..."

"You know you don't deserve it?" Plague growls.

"Yes," Whiskey groans. His hands clutch uselessly at the stone floor.

"Say it."

Whiskey's teeth grind together with a clack. "I don't deserve it," he grits out.

"Correct," Plague growls. "But since you asked so nicely..."

Then Plague's head snaps up, those pale blue eyes locking onto mine in the darkness. My breath catches in my throat, but I can't look away. His lips curve even as his hand keeps stroking them both.

"Seems all the noise you've been making has attracted some attention," Plague purrs, clear amusement bleeding into his clinical tone.

Whiskey lifts his head to stare at me in shock before groaning, his head falling back against the stone as his face burns in humiliation. "Oh what the fuck..." he growls, his chest heaving with each ragged breath. "You gotta be fucking kidding me."

Heat floods my cheeks as they stare at me, but I can't look away. My fingers are still buried inside myself, my core clenching around them. Part of me wants to run, but a bigger part wants to stay right here and watch.

They already know I've been watching, anyway.

"Well?" Plague's voice carries an edge of amusement. "Are you just going to watch or are you going to join us?"

His hand starts moving on their cocks again, drawing a strangled moan from Whiskey. The larger alpha's face burns crimson, but his cock throbs visibly in Plague's grip.

"I... I should go..." My words come out breathless, unconvincing.

"Should you?" Plague's eyes gleam in the darkness. "That's not what your scent says."

He's right. The air is thick with the honeysuckle sweetness of my arousal, mingling with their muskier alpha scents. My legs shake as I rise to my feet and take a hesitant step closer.

"Fuck," Whiskey groans. "This is so fucked up..."

But his cock pulses in Plague's hand, precome beading at the tip.

"Is it?" Plague's voice stays maddeningly steady despite his own obvious arousal. "Your body seems to disagree."

I take another step closer. The heat building between my legs drowns out any rational thought. All I can focus on is the way Whiskey writhes beneath Plague's surgical precision, the way their slick cocks slide together.

"Come here," Plague commands softly.

My feet carry me forward before I can think better of it. Up close, the scent of their arousal is intoxicating. Whiskey won't meet my eyes, his face still flushed with humiliation, his strong chest heaving with each ragged breath.

"Show us what you were doing," Plague purrs.

My hand trembles as I lift the hem of Whiskey's borrowed shirt. Cool air hits my slick thighs, making me shiver. But the way their eyes darken at the sight sends liquid heat pooling between my legs.

"Beautiful," Plague breathes as my fingers find my core again. "Keep touching yourself. Show us how watching affected you."

A whimper escapes me as I slide my fingers back inside. My other hand pinches and rolls my nipple through the layers of their shirts, sending sparks of pleasure throughout my body. Being watched like this is making me nervous, but it also makes everything more intense.

"Look at her, Whiskey," Plague orders. His hand twists on their cocks, making the larger alpha groan. "See what you do to our omega?"

Whiskey's honey-brown eyes finally meet mine, darkening with a mixture of shame and raw hunger. The sight makes my core clench around my fingers.

"That's it," Plague murmurs in a tone that would be ominous coming from anyone else. Hell, it still is. "Show us everything."

I rock against my hand, matching the rhythm of Plague's strokes. Every broken growl that escapes Whiskey's lips sends electricity through my body. My legs shake as pleasure builds, threatening to overwhelm me.

"Fuck," Whiskey chokes out.

"What?" Plague's voice carries that edge that drives us both crazy. "Use your words."

But Whiskey just groans as Plague's clever fingers work them both over. His hips buck desperately, seeking more friction. The sight of him coming undone makes my core throb even more.

"She's close," Plague observes clinically, though his own voice shakes slightly. "Look how her pupils dilate. How her breath catches. The way her?—"

"Shut up," Whiskey and I say at the same time.

Plague smirks, but his hand moves faster on their cocks.

My fingers curl deeper inside me, finding that perfect spot that makes ecstasy spike through my core. I can barely stay on my feet as I watch them together, my knees trembling with each wave of heat crashing through me. The way Plague's hands stroke them both so expertly, how Whiskey writhes beneath him despite clearly trying to maintain some control...

It's almost too much.

Whiskey won't meet my eyes now, his face flushed with embarrassment. But his cock throbs visibly in Plague's grip, precome beading at the tip each time he steals a glance at me touching myself. He pants and growls as he fights against his building pleasure.

"Look how hard you're making him," Plague purrs, his voice rough with need. "He's trying so hard not to come just from watching you."

"Shut… the fuck… up," Whiskey growls, but his hips buck desperately into Plague's grip.

"Such a proud alpha," Plague continues, sweeping his thumb over Whiskey's tip in a way that makes Whiskey buck greedily into his grasp. "So desperate to maintain control. But look how your body betrays you when our omega watches."

I press deeper, working another finger inside as I watch them. I have to lean back against the stone wall of the cave for support. My inner walls clench hard around the intrusion. Heat coils tighter in my belly with each stroke of Plague's hand, each grunt and growl Whiskey grits out.

"Close?" Plague purrs. "She's going to come just from watching you like this."

The only reason I haven't yet is because I'm trying not to. Trying to hold off. And I'm quickly losing that battle.

Plague's eyes dance in the faint light within the darkness. "Show him," he purrs. "Show him what you do to us."

I moan softly as my fingers find that perfect spot inside me and my hips surge forward off the stone in response.

Whiskey's eyes go wide as he watches me touch myself.

"Fuck," he chokes out.

"Beautiful, isn't she?" Plague murmurs, his precise voice rough with need. His hand moves faster on their cocks. "Look how wet she is just from watching you beg me to let you come."

My core throbs at his words. I rock against my palm, grinding down as my ecstasy builds, my inner walls clenching and fluttering around my fingers. My back presses against the cave wall, the surface hard and cool against my feverish skin. I brace myself against it, riding the growing intensity building between my legs.

Whiskey lets out a sharp growl and bucks hard, but Plague's hand stills completely and squeezes tight around the bases of their knots, drawing a desperate groan from Whiskey. "Not yet," Plague scolds him. "Not until she comes first."

Heat floods through me at his words. My fingers move faster, curling harder to hit that spot that makes my thighs shake. I'm so close, hovering right on the edge as I watch Plague squeezing their cocks together in a commanding grip. The hilts of their cocks are reddened and throbbing, the flow cut off where Plague is gripping them just beneath the knots, and the sight is enough to drive me over the edge.

"Look at her," Plague commands Whiskey. "Watch what you do to our omega."

I cry out softly as my core pulses around my fingers, my legs going to jelly beneath me and threatening to give out.

"Come for her now," Plague purrs, releasing his grip on their cocks just enough.

Whiskey's head falls back with a strangled snarl through gritted teeth as he comes undone. His cock pulses in Plague's grip, painting both their chests with thick ropes of come. The sight makes my inner walls clench with aftershocks.

"Good boy," Plague breathes, still stroking them both through it. His own cock leaks as he watches Whiskey shudder beneath him, though he doesn't seem to have much left after Whiskey milked him dry.

" Fuck ," Whiskey groans, his head falling back against the stone. His massive chest heaves with each ragged breath. "That was..."

"Indeed." Plague's lips curve into that infuriating half-smile. His pale blue eyes lock onto mine, calculating. Assessing. "Though perhaps we could try something different."

Whiskey's eyes snap open. "Different how?"

"Oh, I have a few ideas," Plague murmurs, his voice carrying an edge that sends electricity down my spine. His surgeon's fingers trail lower, making Whiskey's breath hitch as he caresses the inside of the other alpha's muscular thigh. "Nothing too... invasive, if that's what you're concerned about. But I'm sure our omega would enjoy the show."

Heat floods my cheeks at his words. The sharp edge to his tone only makes it more intense somehow. Like I'm part of some elaborate experiment.

"You're a sick fuck, you know that?" Whiskey growls, but there's no real heat behind it. His honey-brown eyes dart to mine, darkening with a mixture of renewed embarrassment and lingering hunger.

"So you've mentioned." Plague's hand moves lower, drawing another strangled growl from the larger alpha. "Multiple times, in fact. And yet..."

His words trail off meaningfully. My core heats with renewed need as I imagine what "different" might entail.

"Fuck," Whiskey breathes, his face flushing darker. "You're gonna be the death of me."

"Perhaps." Plague's grin takes on a predatory edge. "But what a way to go."