Chapter 1

ONE

Asha

A good shower cleanses the mind as well as the body. One settles into a meditative state that holds the magical power to break destructive loops. At least that’s how it works for me. And right now, that’s exactly what I need. The stream of water draws my thoughts out from the corners in which they’ve stubbornly lodged themselves. It’s as if the heat and steam soften my brain, providing a chance to reshape itself.

Even if only a little.

I’m in another shitty motel bathroom, but the continuous stream massaging my neck and shoulders does its job almost as well as it would at a five-star resort. The knots begin to loosen. Anger melts into resolve. Fear sublimates into focus. Needling doubts drown in the static of cascading water.

A small measure of tension eases from my body and I start to relax. With the relaxation comes clarity. In the background of my thoughts I feel the hum of magic, ever present within me. Why haven’t I succumbed to that dark magic? I think of my pack members who became rabid after the experiments conducted by the Blood Mages. Could Orson’s theory be correct? Might I spare myself their terrible fate by only using my magic for good? Every passing day, it gets easier to quell the voice inside telling me to lash out. I think I might be mastering my magic.

Maybe.

But I fear I’ll have to use it for violence soon. My brother Simon is lost, and I can’t let him continue his murderous rampage. Things have changed as I’ve realized who he’s become. I regret not killing him the first time I came across him when he’d encased an entire town with his black magic, using his magic to feast on the innocent people. But back then, I thought he could still be saved.

Until he killed and killed again. Until I realized there was nothing I could do to pull him back from the edge. The boy I loved, my best friend, my family is gone. I can’t keep allowing others to die to protect the ghost of my brother.

So, I’ll have to kill him. One more use of dark magic for ill, then no more. It’s not worth the cost to my soul. Maybe I won’t even need it then, if I’m capable of putting Simon down without relying on the Blood Mages’ terrible gift.

The more I think about killing my brother, the more at ease I am with it. Because the truth of the matter is, he’s already dead. What’s left of him is trapped within a pitch-like mass of hate, gradually eroding his mind, making space for its wicked designs. I won’t be killing Simon. I’ll be setting him free.

I’m at peace with that now.

A deep breath of steam reawakens me. Water beads on my flesh, streams in rivulets along my naked body. I’ve become so comfortable in my skin since taking up with the boys. They’ve allowed me to forgive myself and accept pleasure again. Something I never imagined I’d be able to do.

A smile touches my lips as I think about them. Max Blackwell, the stoic, whose steely facade belies a caring heart. His brother, Braxton, with a rugged exterior shielding his deep well of passion. Twins cut from the same cloth, their tangled emotions unknotted by my delicate touch. And then there’s Orson, boyish and buoyant, yet also thoughtful and smart, whose wits are matched by sexual prowess.

Together, my three men have given me something I thought I’d never feel again: a sense of belonging. They quiet the storm that rages inside me. And maybe I quiet the storm within them too.

If refraining from the use of magic for dark purposes keeps me from becoming a monster like my pack-mates, then Max, Braxton, and Orson can take credit for my restraint. Without them, I would have given into the shadows a long time ago. Without them, I’d have forgotten there was anything in life outside of my own guilt.

A light rapping on the bathroom door distracts me from my reverie. “Yep!” I call out.

The door creaks open and a presence enters. Eddies of steam curl away from the brawny figure whose silhouette I instantly recognize as Braxton. He’s wearing a gray t-shirt and jeans, both of which hug the hard muscles of his body in a way that’s almost sinful. He passes through the cloud of steam to open the shower door. I stand naked before him, and his enormous frame dwarfs my petite one.

“Any updates?” We know where my brother is going, but where is he now ? Can we catch him before he reaches the party that the Blood Mages will be at? Before he unleashes his magic and likely kills many innocents?

He shakes his head, responding only to the question I asked aloud. “Nothing.”

I nod, relaxing. Right now, no news is good news. “Then, what’s up?”

His gaze scans my form, and I suddenly know exactly why he’s here. “Mind if I join you?” he asks, leaning an arm on the wall, trying to look casual, and failing miserably.

Did I mind? Not one bit. Whether he wants to be sexy or just be close to me, I crave him. I crave his closeness and his touch. I crave the way my dark thoughts ease with his presence.

“But I hope you don’t intend on coming in here with all those clothes on,” I tease, trying not to get excited at just the thought of him joining me in the shower.

He smirks while disrobing. The clothes peel away from his muscular form, and my eyes drag along his front to rest on his cock. He’s already sprung, which doesn’t mean much when it comes to what’s about to happen. I’m starting to think this boy is excited every time I’m around, whether we’re eating lunch or ready to fuck.

Catching the direction of my gaze, his smile widens. “Care to soap me up?” he asks, stepping into the tub.

“If I have to,” I tell him playfully, my voice already husky with excitement.

He leans down as the water runs over his black hair, wickedness flashing in his pale blue eyes. Then he nips my bottom lip, and my wolf practically purrs like a cat within me.

I take the bar of soap and begin at his pecs, snaking my way down his body until I reach his pelvis. I pause, rolling my eyes up to his. He’s watching me, eyes half-lidded, his dick practically jumping in excitement at my touch. But I don’t want to make it that easy for him.

Standing taller, I give a sweet smile. “First, my hair?”

Most men would have grumbled at the sudden shift in my direction, but his lips just curl. “Whatever my lady wants.”

My lady. I almost snort.

I turn my back to him and he squeezes a dollop of shampoo into my white-blonde locks. With gentle fingers, he lathers the shampoo, massaging my scalp in little circular motions. I moan with delight and lean back against him. His cock presses hard against my ass. “Seems you’re enjoying my scalp massage as much as I am,” I say, then wiggle a little.

He groans. “Don’t tempt me.”

Pushing his hand away, I wash the shampoo out of my hair, letting him watch as I do so. Something about these boys that I’ve realized is that there are times when it’s better quick, and times that it’s better slow.

I turn around to face him again, and he wraps his arms around me. We kiss, a gentle brushing of lips that gradually escalates into French kissing. His cock rubs against my belly, and the knowledge that I’m having that effect on him is its own kind of turn on.

“Aren’t they right out there?” I whisper.

Orson and Maxwell should be in the bedroom. Even if they weren’t wolves, they’d know exactly what we were doing in here once we got started. Neither of us is exactly quiet.

He grins. “I’m pretty sure they knew exactly what I was up to the second I walked in here.” He kisses me again, his gaze possessive. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to listen to you showering, knowing you’re just on the other side of the door, naked?”

I run my hand down his chest. “Didn’t you go years without sex in the military?”

He laughs. “Yes, and I’m not going to make that mistake again.” Then he leans forward and bites my earlobe, sending a shiver down my spine. “Now that I’ve tasted you, I can’t get enough.”

Goosebumps erupt on my skin.

Reaching between us, I wrap my hand firmly around him and watch as his eyes widen. Then, in slow movements, I stroke him, loving the feeling of his body shuddering around mine. Loving the way he watches me with eyes that seem to worship me.

This man… How did I get so lucky to find him? To find them ? It’s like the universe gave me the three of them to balance out all the other shit it’s thrown at me.

He leans down and kisses me again, harder this time, and I let my tongue slide into his mouth, tangling together with his. The effect of his kiss is instant, as my body seems to heat hotter than the water. His hand drifts down and finds my breasts, and then it’s my turn to feel my head swimming, lost to his touch.

This man always knows just what to do to me.

Turning around, I press my hands against the wall of the shower and push my rear out, a silent invitation. He runs his hand down my back and over my ass, before slipping one hand between my thighs. My legs shake as he strokes me slowly, lovingly, with calloused fingers that feel unbelievable on my sensitive body. I move right along with his body, finding it hard to breathe as my desire builds.

At last, I whimper, and he stiffens behind me. His hand drops from my pussy, and he repositions himself behind me, taking a firm grip of my hips. He teases me at first, tracing my pussy with the head of his cock, rubbing it back and forth in my folds the same way he’d done with his fingers.

I’m about to lose my mind. Did he think I wanted to slow things down? No way in hell! I want them to heat up. I want him to finish me with that glorious dick of his.

As if in answer, I feel his tip press into my opening, and I hold my breath. When he plunges in, I let out a shriek of surprise and pleasure. He responds with a growl that makes my nipples harden, and then our voices fall beneath the sound of our bodies moving against one another, a wet clapping of ass against hard torso.

He slides his forearm between my breasts and wraps his hand around my throat, loose enough I can breathe, tight enough to hold me against him. As he works his long, thick shaft inside of me, I turn my face towards his. We kiss and the taste of his lips mixes with his earthy scent, a scent my wolf’s grown to crave, heightening my arousal.

His rhythm increases. My nerves come alive. It’s hard to think. It’s hard to do anything but feel, as lightning courses through my body and electricity builds under my skin until I don’t think I can take it any longer. He slams into me one final time and holds himself deep inside. The two of us come in unison, his body stiff, mine vibrating with climax as I shudder over and over again, lost to the feeling of my orgasm rolling through me.

As it ebbs, he withdraws from me and angles the shower head so that its flow washes over me. His fingers are gentle as he finds my pussy and begins to wash away the evidence of our lovemaking. He finishes cleaning me with attentive hands, dragging the bar of soap down my back, slipping it between my buttocks, sliding it down my legs.

I feel like a goddess. Like someone who deserves to be treasured and loved. It’s a feeling that hits me even harder when he finishes cleaning me, kisses my lips, and says, “You don’t know what you do to me.”

I smile, my legs feeling a little wobbly. “I think I do.”

His eyes find mine, and I get the feeling he wants to say a thousand things, but instead, he kisses me so hard I’m left panting, and turns off the water. With all the care in the world, he wraps me in a towel and helps me out of the shower.

When we emerge from the bathroom, wrapped in towels, I spot Max and Orson sitting on the edge of one of the beds, and they greet us with knowing grins. “Why is it I think you only got dirtier in that shower?” says Orson.

I still feel like a live wire as I stare at Orson. He’s shirtless, looking like some kind of surfer as he sits on the bed with his long blond hair, easy smile, and muscular frame. Knowing that he’s a literal genius only adds to my attraction to him. Which is kind of crazy. Wasn’t I just properly satisfied?

“How was it?” asks Max.

He’s in his playful mood. He normally is when he’s in his pajamas, out of his clean-cut suits. Pajama Max is laid back. He isn’t an Enforcer. He’s just a sexy dark-haired man who treasures control in a way that’s almost erotic. One day, when life slows down, I’m going to test just how much I can push him in bed, and I have a feeling I’m going to enjoy that day.

My nipples feel hard and painful, my breasts heavy, and the space between my thighs aches as I stare at both of them. I try to find the words to say that I could have more, that I want them too, but all I manage to is glance back at Braxton, who shrugs and smiles.

“It was just a shame we couldn’t fit more,” I say.

“That’s the trouble with these roadside motels,” says Braxton, his voice low.

“I’m not sure she was talking about the shower,” Max says, his hungry gaze running over me.

The energy in the room shifts. It’s like both the men and their wolves are on high alert. Only a few weeks ago, I would have never felt confident to make a move now, but that was before.

I open my towel and drop it, presenting my nude form to the men. If I thought they were alert before, that’s nothing compared to the way they are now. Orson might have an excuse, being a man fresh out of prison, but both men are staring at me like they’ve never seen a woman before.

A little nervousness uncurls with me, but I ignore the feeling and sit between them on the bed, laying a hand on each of their crotches. Both men grow stiff beneath the restrictive fabric of their pants, and the knowledge that just seeing me naked can turn them on like this is overwhelming. I stroke once, and they jump a little.

“It’s much more comfortable being naked,” I tell them, then glance at Braxton. “Don’t you agree?”

He strips away his towel and sprawls across the second bed. “You’re not wrong.”

In seconds, I have Max and Orson down to their birthday suits. I don’t let them sit again. I get down on my knees and begin to alternate, sucking on Max first while I work Orson with my hand, and then switching to the other. It’s hot. There’s no way around it. Watching two sexy men, naked, arching toward me, while I devour their long, thick cocks.

If I thought I was hot before, I’m dripping wet now. I’m ready to do more than just taste them.

It’s Max who acts first. The man is an alpha through and through. He catches me around the throat, gently, but enough to get me to stop sucking his tip playfully. “Ass or pussy?”

I shudder.

“Ass or pussy?” he repeats.

“Ass,” I whisper.

He slides around me, getting me on all fours, and Orson is instantly in front of me, hard cock in hand. At my side, I see Braxton, stroking himself slowly as he watches, and I feel Max as he grasps my hips and begins to slide his cock in my wet folds.

It’s hard to catch my breath, but the second I go to pull in a deep breath, Orson’s cock pushes in. I don’t want him to be gentle, and he isn’t. He tangles his hand in my wet hair and jerks me close, forcing me to take him so deeply that I choke. I look up at him, and he watches me, searching my face to make sure I’m enjoying this.

And I am. He doesn’t need to worry.

Max shifts from my pussy to my ass and parts me. His whispered words, “God, you’re fucking beautiful,” come before his tip presses into me and he begins to push deep into my tight channel.

I wiggle against him, eager for more, but he moves slowly, no doubt to be sure he won’t hurt me. When he's in deep, filling me, a little gasp slips from my mouth, strangled by the cock I’m sucking. Braxton is kneeling on the floor, one hand wrapped around his dick, the other stroking my clit.

It’s overwhelming, Braxton stroking me, Orson fucking my mouth, and Max fucking my ass, but it’s also so damn good. It’ so good that it feels like nobody should ever be capable of experiencing this kind of pleasure. But I let them use me. I let them bring me pleasure as I’m trapped between them, nearly every hole in my body filled by them.

Their groans of desire fill the room. The sounds of me eagerly choking around the cock in my mouth and the slap of Max working my ass grow louder. Soon, I’m making sounds I never thought I was capable of as they all head toward the finish line.

I fly over the edge first, my orgasm so powerful that I’d have crumpled if they weren’t holding me up. Orson explodes in my mouth, crying my name, as I ride the waves of my desire. It’s only a few seconds later that Braxton groans, his fingers rubbing me harder as he comes. I feel like I’m losing my mind, being dragged along with an orgasm that seems to have no end. Max’s breathing hard as he slows his pumps, and my orgasm finally calms enough for me to relax between them.

Orson pulls out of my mouth, but Max lifts me so that I’m lying over the edge of the bed. Without a word, he starts up again, and a string of curses slips past my lips as my pleasure borders on pain. It’s that moment where your nerves are so alive that all you want to do is lie for a second and just be, but the man is dragging you back toward an orgasm.

To my surprise, Orson lays down on the bed, cock in my face, and says, “Just clean me off.”

Why the fuck is that so hot? I do as he says, licking his dick, his balls, licking him clean while Max brings a hand around to vibrate my pussy with the fast rhythm of his fingers. I orgasm yet again, and the bastard's deep thrusts end with a guttural sound, his seed filling my ass.

“Fuck you, Max,” I mutter.

"I believe you just did," he says, his lips curving into a satisfied smirk. He slaps my ass. “You know you like it.”

And I do. I really do.

When we’ve exhausted ourselves, Max and Orson lay me between them, forming a cocoon around me, while Braxton lays spread out on the other bed, his golden retriever, Trouble, sleeping near his feet. Feeling happy and safe, I drift off to sleep, thoughts of tomorrow occupying my mind until they bound out of reach.