Chapter 19

NINETEEN

Asha

“So it’s really rather simple,” says Orson as we crowd around his computer.

I think to myself, likely anything but . So far, if there’s one thing I’ve learned about Orson, it’s that he’s a genius. Every time I look at the coding he’s doing on the computer, my head hurts. I have no idea how he can turn a bunch of letters and symbols into something… useful.

“It doesn’t look simple,” Braxton says.

“It looks like gibberish,” Max says, then adds, “but I’m sure it’ll be very useful.”

Orson either doesn’t hear them or chooses to ignore them. “After thorough analysis of the data retrieved from the various detection systems aboard the Chinese satellites,” he glances up at us, “they’re outfitted with more capabilities, but eminently hackable,” he returns to the computer, pulling up a new window, “I was able to cobble together an AI that reads the data for signs of abnormal signatures.” He swivels in his chair and looks up at me. “Namely, your brother.”

Uh, what?

I shake my head. “How?” He draws in a deep breath in preparation for a lengthy explanation until I raise my hand to pause him. “Nevermind. More importantly, how confident are you in its accuracy?”

“Completely,” he says. Then, after a beat, he qualifies that statement, saying, “It is a young algorithm, without much experience to draw from, so I have to keep feeding it instances of magic usage for it to suss out the proper wavelengths, but for example, I had it assess the town we just came from and it produced some really fascinating analysis. I think it’s going to be a game changer for our mission.”

Max rubs his eyes. “Either I’m not entirely recovered from my bout of amnesia, or none of that made sense. In either event, answer this in simple terms: How does all that translate into finding Asha’s brother?”

My thoughts exactly. So far, I’m hearing a lot about data and analysis. In my experience, you find my people by following the bodies. But, maybe, this system of his will make it so we can find my brother before the bodies keep piling up.

“Right.” Orson twirls his chair back to his computer and presses a button. A dark color pulsates on the map, a splotch of purple that darkens to black in its center, like a terrible bruise. “That’s the town we just left. As you can see, it’s covered in magical residue. Simon left behind his stink, as it were, because he used so much of his powers in this region.” He hits another button, and a timestamp appears on the screen. As its green digits speed through the hours, we watch the purple bruise gradually shrink.

Orson taps the clock, resets it to an earlier timestamp, then lets it roll through the morning. To the east of the town, a green dot smears across the landscape. Orson points to it and narrates, “This was Simon, forty-five minutes before the massacre. As you can see, not as dark as the big purple cloud, but giving off enough magic for my AI to pick up on.” His finger drags along the screen as neon green gradually draws a line towards the mountain village, as though a long snake unspools across the forest. “He starts charging up five minutes out.” The head of the snake darkens to red, then purple, then black.

“Then Simon enters the town,” says Orson, and the black dot starts giving off purple flares that lash out and imprint themselves on the map. I try not to think of the real world actions the colors indicate, but I know it’s not pretty. I’m watching dozens of lives ending through a filter of data. “Now, once he’s coated the entire town with magic, there’s no telling where he is. So, even if I had this up and running for the Enforcers, Simon would still have been able to hide from us anywhere in this purple cloud. But we’d have known he was in the area. He wouldn’t have got the drop on us like he did.” Orson encircles the color with his index finger.

“Alright, that’s pretty good work,” Max praises, patting Orson on the shoulder.

Orson grins. “I guess I have a purpose after all.”

Braxton punches his shoulder lightly. “You’re getting cocky, you know that?” But he’s smiling.

I put a hand on Orson’s shoulder, and he tenses under my touch. “Thank you. For all your hard work.”

For a second, our eyes just lock. I hate that desire flows between us like this. It feels wrong. Like cheating. So, I drop my hand.

“Asha?” Max’s tone is strange and unexpected.

I glance at him, feeling uncertain.

“Are you attracted to Orson?”

Fuck. “I don’t want to do this. It’ll just get you mad.”

He gives me that stubborn look that drives me crazy, but when I glance away from him, I see Braxton and Orson staring at me expectantly. Oh, shit. I guess everyone wants the answer to this question.

It takes me a minute to choose my words with care. “Before the attack on my pack lands, I had a few boyfriends, but no one really serious. I could always just take them or leave them, you know? I just didn’t care. And after the attack, I didn’t really think I’d find anyone attractive again. That kind of thing seemed like the last thing on my mind.” I release a slow breath. “Then, I met you and Braxton, and it just felt… easy, right. Strange. But right.”

They’re waiting. All three of them.

Even though I really don’t want another fight, I press on. “I feel that way around Orson too. I know it complicates, well, everything, but that’s how I feel.”

“Maybe it’s just because he’s always hanging around in his boxers with his junk out,” Braxton grumbles.

Orson glances down at himself. “Do you guys care when I’m in my boxers? I mean, my junk isn’t really hanging out.”

I’d laugh if it was any other situation.

But Max just sighs and goes to the bed, sitting down. His hands run through his hair, and guilt twists in my stomach as I watch him trying to decide how best to handle this situation. I’d kind of like it if I wasn’t always a situation for him to handle.

“Asha,” he says in an official kind of way. “Do you think we could be your mates?”

I freeze. Every muscle. Mate seems to be a word that rolls through my mind when they touch me, but for someone who is part vampire, part shifter, and part evil mage, I’m not sure I can even have a mate.

But, yes, it feels like they might be.

Wrapping my arms around my chest, I stare for a minute, then decide to go with the truth. “If a half-breed can have mates, then I think yes, you three are mine.”

Braxton turns, walks away, then paces back. He looks like a man deciding exactly how he wants to explode, which is the opposite of what I wanted. Not that I can blame him. I did just basically put two men who are my lovers on the same footing as a man I’m still getting to know.

Max glances at me. “I think you’re my mate too. Braxton?”

The twin stares me down. “Yeah, I do. My wolf thinks so too.”

It takes a minute before Max looks at Orson. “What are your thoughts on all of this?”

Orson drops his hands from his keyboard and tilts his head as if assessing. “In my pack, there were many relationships with several men and one woman. It was fairly normal.”

Max nods. “Our pack had a few, but they weren’t close to our parents. Same went for our aunt and uncle’s pack.”

Orson continues. “I never cared one way or another whether it would only be my mate and I, or if I’d be sharing her with other men. But, I have to admit, the instant I saw Asha I suspected that there was something hard to define and different between us. Since then, the feeling has continued to grow, and the thought of sharing her with both of you has intrigued me. I haven’t figured out quite how it’ll work. However, the idea of not just finding my mate but my family too is rather appealing.”

Braxton sighs, but he sounds more defeated than angry. “So, whiz boy is saying he thinks Asha is his mate too?”

Orson smiles. “Percisely. However, I realize that her being a half-breed makes it more difficult for our shifter sides to know. Yet, I don’t doubt it. I assumed coming together would simply take whatever time it took for Braxton to stop hating me, Max to see some value in me being around, and Asha to work past whatever she needed to in order to be open to the idea of there being an us with all of you.”

Max scoffs like his words are ridiculous. “I see a value in you.”

“And I don’t hate you,” Braxton says, seeming even more insulted.

“And I’m open to the idea, but I don’t want to hurt them,” I add without thinking.

All eyes focus on me.

“Is the only reason you haven’t pursued something with Orson because of us?” Max asks, sounding shocked.

I shrug, feeling uncomfortable. “And because our lives aren’t exactly easy. It’s hard to find moments where I want anything close to something happy and good. Usually, I’m just hating myself because of everything I’ve screwed up and trying to put all my attention on fixing my mistakes. I don’t have it in my heart to mess up anything else. I really don’t think I could handle it.”

“Sweetheart,” Braxton says, and he sounds crushed as he pulls me into his arms.

I rest my head against his chest, and he runs his hands through my hair over and over again. It’s like he wants to comfort me, but he doesn’t know quite how. Or maybe he wants to do more.

It’s perfect though. I snuggle against him, taking comfort from his strength.

“Well, this isn’t going to work,” Braxton says softly.

I stiffen, and my head jerks up. “No, wait! I don’t want to screw things up with us! I told you that! I can’t lose you or Max. I–”

He shushes me with a sad smile. “I meant, this isn’t going to work. You wanting the computer geek but not being with him because of us.”

I stare in confusion, but Braxton just looks to Max.

Max nods. “He’s right. If we’re all mated to you, then this is our pack. It might be growing. It might be uncomfortable at first. But it doesn’t matter. Today, or a year from now, we’ll be a pack. It’s just the way it is.”

“It definitely won’t be easy,” Braxton says, his words coming out on a rush of breath. “I have to fight not punching Orson in the face multiple times a day already, and the feeling isn’t going to get easier if I see him touching you.”

“Good to know,” Orson whispers. “I’ll have to work on whatever makes my face so punchable.”

To my surprise, Braxton laughs.

I glance between them. “So, what are we saying here?”

Max lifts a brow. “We’re going to try to share you with Orson without punching him in the face.”

“No promises,” Braxton rushes out.

Orson is staring.

“No opinion on this?” I ask, feeling flustered.

He shakes his head. “I’m just trying to get my erection under control before Braxton notices and does that whole face punching thing.”

My jaw drops.

Max rubs his face, looking away, so I can’t tell if he’s annoyed or trying not to laugh.

Finally, I manage, “ Erection ?”

Orson looks down at his pants, which, sure enough, are tented with an erection. “I spent a long time in prison. I’ve been smelling sex all over you since the first time I met you, and now I’ve started picturing some very dirty things.” He stands abruptly. “I’m going to go take a shower that I hope is cold enough to form ice cubes.”

When he goes to move past me, I surprise myself by taking his arm. “Or…?”

His gaze is shocked as he looks down at me. “Don’t play with me. I can’t handle it.”

“Playing with you seems to be exactly what she has in mind,” Braxton grumbles.

I wince and look at the brothers. “We just talked about things. If this is too fast, it’s completely okay.”

Max glances at Braxton. Silence stretches between them, and then Max releases a slow breath. “Why don’t we take Trouble out for a little walk?”

Braxton gives me a look. “A little walk. We plan to be back in time to enjoy you too.”

My cheeks burn. “I can handle that.” Hell, my wolf is pleased as hell.

The guys gather Trouble up and some of his toys, then head out the door. When it closes behind them, I glance up at Orson, unsure of what to say. Desire flows through me. Some deep part of me is so damn content that I don’t know what to do with myself. I get all three men. They’re mine. And I know there’s a very real possibility I’m their mate.

So where do I go from here?

“Uh, you might need to take the lead on this,” he says. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, so if I take the lead, things are going to get a little rushed. Actually, I probably should have taken care of things before this. Otherwise, the likelihood that I’ll leave you unsatisifed is strong. And I want to be clear, I’m very excited about this. I don’t want to screw things up, but I just might be too excited, if you catch my drift.”

Why is that so hot?

“So maybe we don’t take things too slowly?” I say, closing the space between us. “Maybe we do things quickly enough that we both end up satisfied?”

He visibly swallows. “Anything you want, Asha. Seriously. I’m not into a lot of kinky shit, but I think right now I’d let you do just about anything to me.”

I grin and reach for his shirt, then pull it off over his head. His lowers his mouth to mine, and then we’re kissing, his sweet caramel scent wrapping around me, turning me on. Our mouths battle for control before our tongues dance together, and arousal uncurls inside of me.

Moving my hands to his pants, I undo the buttons and pull them down. Sure enough, he’s hard. In his boxers, his massive erection strains the material in front of me. I lock gazes with him and pull his boxers down.

“I can’t handle that, Asha,” he groans.

But I ignore him. Rising up on my knees, I take him into my mouth and he chokes out a series of swear words. I start to bob on his long, thick cock, loving the taste of him, while he thrashes his head above me. One of his hands digs into the back of my hair, and he guides me further, taking him so much deeper that I choke a little.

In an instant, he’s leaped back, and then I’m over his shoulder being rushed to the bed. I laugh as he throws me on it, but his eyes are darkened with need as he helps me out of my clothes, then stares down at me.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he murmurs.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, glancing down at my body.

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing,” he whispers. “You are perfection.”

Then, he slides onto the bed on top of me. His tip presses against my opening, but his head moves to my breasts instead, and he begins to suck and lick like a man who hasn’t touched a woman in a long time. Which he is.

If I thought I was wet before, the feeling of him against me and the sensation of his mouth on my breasts threatens to pull me to the edge. When his hand drops to my core, I freeze, and then a moan slips past my lips. He plays with me, sliding his fingers in my folds, making me wetter and wetter with each touch. Occasionally, his thumb finds my clit, circles it, and rubs, making my whole body jump, but he doesn’t seem to realize what he’s doing to me because he just presses on.

At last, I pant, “Orson, fuck me now. Right now!”

“Shit!” he groans. “I was trying to be patient. I was trying to get you ready.”

“Damn it. I’m ready!”

He pulls his hand away and braces himself above me. Our eyes lock while he slides inside, and I gasp, jerking my body to take him deeper and faster. Fuck. He’s such a perfect fit. Hard. Thick. Long. Filling me to perfection.

When he reaches his hilt, he hesitates, breathing hard. “You’re so perfect. You’re amazing. God damn it, I’m lucky.”

I pull him down for another kiss, then wrap my legs around him. He starts to pump in and out of me when we hear the door open. In a panic, I cover my chest, then see Braxton and Max in the doorway. For one brief moment, I think they’re going to kill Orson, but then they send Trouble to the other room and start to undress.

My heart races. Part of me doesn’t feel like this is real. Is this a naughty dream? Fuck. I don’t care.

They come to stand on each side of the bed, and I’m happy to see they’re erect and waiting. I wrap my hands around their cocks and start pumping. And, hell, it feels amazing. Complete.

“What should I do? Should I keep going?” Orson pants.

“If you don’t, I will,” Braxton says, even though he’s out of breath.

Orson groans and starts to fuck me. I lose control, switching between pumping the men with my hands and taking them in my mouth, alternating when I feel them getting too close to the edge. I love the sensation of the three of them inside of me at the same time.

This is what I always wanted but never knew.

When Orson’s rhythm starts to speed up, I throw back my head and moan. The twins’ cocks come from both directions, filling my mouth at the same time, sliding against my lips and tongue, and sliding against each other. It’s hot. Incredible. I lay back and just enjoy it all, all the incredible sensations.

They move faster and faster. My desire builds as my nerves scream with pleasure, and then Orson is coming inside of me as my orgasm hits. It’s strong and fast, sending stars dancing in front of my vision. But it goes on and on, still pulling me under when Max and Braxton come in my mouth.

I drink them in. I suck harder. They groan, and I stare up at them. Their heads are thrown back, their pleasure and my pleasure combining in a delicious swirl of desire.

It takes several minutes before they pull their cocks out of my mouth. Then, they squeeze onto the bed on each side of me, and their hands drift over my breasts and the rest of my body.

“That was incredible.” Orson sounds shocked. “I mean, the tight pussy, and the breasts, yeah, I expected that. But watching you give them head… that was hot too.”

Braxton chuckles. “We know, nerd. Calm down.”

“At least he didn’t embarrass himself,” Max says, grinning. “It’s worse when you do it with an audience.”

“Has it happened to you?” Orson asks, sincerely.

Both men laugh, but Max answers, “No, I’m a man.”

Orson is smiling. “I’m the man though.”

The moment’s kind of amazing, but it can’t last forever. We shower, clean up, and change, then get Trouble from next door. Orson kisses me about a thousand times, hand on my ass occasionally, nervously, while the other two men watch him in amusement. Finally, Orson goes back to his computer, tapping away, before calling us over again.

And our moment is over.

He has more data for the system. He shows us evidence of other magical creatures, then brings us back to Simon. There, he begins to explain a bunch of techy nonsense that makes no sense to us.

Braxton leans closer to inspect the map. Trouble, not to be left out, raises up on his hind legs and plants his front paws against the edge of the desk so he can watch the screen, too. “And you can tell us where Simon’s at now?”

Orson rolls the clock forward until a green dot paves a trail north from town. We all watch as the hours flit by and Simon makes his way through the mountain pass. “Where are you headed, little guy?” says Orson to the green snake.

Only it’s not a little guy or a green snake. I’m not even certain it’s my brother Simon anymore, but what I do know is that it’s dangerous and it’s headed?—

I step back from the desk and raise my hand to my mouth. Max notices my retreat and turns around to ask, “What’s the matter?”

My heart plummets as I intuit Simon’s trajectory. “I know where he’s headed,” I say.

The men all turn to look at me. “Where?” asks Braxton.

“The End.”