12. Flame

"She's overwhelmed,"I tell Orcus and Reaper as I enter the dining area. "And rightfully so, given the situation."

Alina hid it well, though.

The moment she mentioned wanting a shower, I set my fork down and escorted her into the room to help her prepare for it.

She was shy at first, her teeth snagging her bottom lip. But when I made it clear that I was just in there to make sure she had what she needed, she relaxed.

"I'm going to find you something to wear" were my final words to her. "If you need anything else, or help with your dress, just let me know."

She visibly exhaled when I stepped away.

I spent a few minutes in the bedroom, talking on the phone with the concierge about clothing options. And when Alina didn't call for anything else, I left the room.

I pull out the chair beside Orcus and collapse into it.

Neither he nor Reaper comments on my statement regarding Alina's emotional state, so I shift focus to my other news. "They're bringing up some outfits for all of us since we didn't exactly pack for an extended stay."

"Is it going to be a bunch of Regency Era bullshit?" Reaper asks.

I shrug. "I don't know. And I don't care. I'll wear my fur if I have to."

Reaper grunts.

Orcus just leans forward, his fingers steepling together on the mostly empty table—apparently, they cleaned up while I was helping Alina.

"She's an Omega," he says, his tone filled with awe despite him stating the obvious. "But she's human."

That last part explains his amazement.

Because Mythos Fae are immortals. They're Gods, not humans.

"You're absolutely certain she's an Omega?" I ask him.

"I sense it in her soul," he tells me. "But I guess I won't be certain until I breed her."

"Oh, let's add that to our agenda," Reaper suggests eagerly. "Chicago pizza and breeding our pet. Yes. Excellent vacation."

Orcus cuts him a look that would wither most fae.

But Reaper merely smiles. "Tell me you wouldn't enjoy everything I just said, and I'll shut up."

The Alpha's jaw clenches, his lips flattening into an ominous line. However, he doesn't comment. Because he can't. He would relish in everything Reaper just mentioned.

And so would I, I think, glancing at the closed bedroom door.

The three of us are not new to sharing women with one another. Although, it's never been quite like this. And it's always been a two-on-one situation, not a three-on-one.

Will Alina even like that?I wonder. Will she want any of us at all?

Orcus could play his Alpha card, saying she's one of his kind and therefore his mate. However, he hasn't given any indication of his intention to do that.

My inner beast could attempt to do the same. All it would take is a single bite to make her mine.

Yet I don't feel the possessive need to keep her to myself. If anything, I like that she might have all three of us. It would ensure her protection for eternity.

Assuming she has the capability of becoming immortal,I realize, frowning. "I don't understand how she has an Omega soul as a human. That can't be a genetic manipulation, right?"

"Are you suggesting her scent has been altered?" Orcus asks, his tone interested rather than irritated.

"Maybe," I admit. "I don't know. It just seems strange that she can have the soul of a fae without actually being one."

"And not just any fae, but a godly fae," Reaper adds, his playful demeanor having disappeared behind a mask of seriousness. To others, his abrupt emotional shifts might feel like whiplash. But I'm used to Reaper's mercurial nature.

"I won't know until I knot her," Orcus says.

"Bringing us beautifully back to my agenda-planning discussion," Reaper murmurs, his eyes lighting up in excitement. "First, we handle the political bullshit. Then, we'll go to Chicago for pizza and to please our pet. And afterward… we fuck."

"She's not a pet, Reaper," Orcus tells him. "She's a potential mate."

The Death Fae blinks at him. "Yes, that's what I said."

"No, you keep calling her a pet."

Reaper arches a brow. "Yes, and…?"

"I'm saying she's more than that."

Reaper blinks again. "There is nothing more important than a pet." He looks at me. "Tell him, Flame. Pets are cherished."

I sigh and shake my head. "I think it's his pet name for her."

"Yes," Reaper says. "That."

"It's belittling," Orcus tells him.

"No, it's not," Reaper argues. "It's cute. And she likes it."

"How do you even know what she likes?" Orcus demands.

"How do you know what she doesn't like?" Reaper counters, folding his arms. "Just because she's your little one and Flame's little panther does not mean she likes either of those names. So I'm trying pet. And I happen to enjoy it a great deal. Just as I happen to enjoy her, too."

Orcus looks ready to throttle Reaper—which is fascinating since Orcus is typically the patient one of our trio—but all three of us are distracted by a strange sort of roar from the bedroom.

Reaper is instantly on his feet.

Orcus and I are right behind him.

Only for us all to freeze as an adorable growl follows that roar. A very feminine growl. Like the kind made from a little panther, I muse.

"Oh, shit. Did she just… growl?" Reaper asks, glancing back at us.

"Yeah," Orcus breathes. "Yeah, she did."

"Fuck," Reaper groans. "Oh, hell, I hope she does that around my cock sometime soon."

Reaper's crass comment goes straight to my dick, causing me to harden just as the door opens to reveal a disheveled-looking Alina. Her pretty, dark eyes instantly find mine as she heaves a furious sigh.

"Can you please help me?" She trails off and gestures at the tangled mess of fabric around her torso. "I… I don't…" She grinds her teeth, her expression filled with a heartbreaking mix of irritation and desperation.

I'm moving toward her before she can say anything else, already understanding what she needs. "Reaper, can you get us a knife?"

He clears his throat, likely trying to recover from his fantasy of Alina growling around his shaft. "Uh, yeah. What kind? Throwing dagger? Paring knife? Carving blade? A cleaver? Something thicker, like a butcher's tool?"

I glance at him in exasperation. "Something that'll slice through fabric like butter."

He nods, his tattoos writhing along his forearm to his wrist as metal glints at the end. Within a few seconds, he's holding a very sharp-looking blade. "This'll do?"

"You are not using that on Alina's dress," Orcus interjects. "Make him some scissors instead."

Reaper frowns but creates the item in his opposite palm and holds them both out to me. Only, Orcus grabs the one he prefers first and hands me scissors with a pointed look. "Hurt her and I hurt you."

I roll my eyes. "My claws are sharper than both of those toys."

"My promise still stands," the Alpha tells me.

"I'll only hurt her in ways she'll like," I counter, turning toward the wide-eyed female in the doorway. "Come on, little panther. Let's get you out of that monstrosity."

It's a purposely chosen term, one that has her nostrils flaring. "I didn't choose it."

"I have no doubt that's true," I tell her as I close the door behind us and lead her through the bedroom to the bathroom. "All right, go stand in front of the mirror for me." I could technically do this by the bed, but I want her to be able to see what I'm doing. We have to develop trust, and this seems like a good way to do it.

She swallows as she does what I request, her eyes meeting mine in the reflective glass.

"I'm going to work on snipping through the ties of your corset. You might want to hold the top against your chest while I do this so it doesn't fall down." Not that I would mind catching a glimpse of her tits—in fact, I would love to see her tits—but I strongly suspect she's not ready for that.

She's still caught up in the confusion of the moment. She's also not built like we are. My jaguar knows she's compatible, and he's ready to mate her right fucking now. He doesn't care that we've just met. He knows what he wants, and he's very happy to take it.

Orcus's Alpha instincts are likely saying the same thing.

And Reaper, well, he often follows the needs of his dick and doesn't give a shit about the potential repercussions of his impulsive actions.

But Alina needs time. Trust. Compassion. And comfort.

So I demonstrate that I understand each of those things now as I gently cut through the laces of her corset.

Her palms flatten against her chest, holding the fabric to her body while I loosen it from behind. Her skirts seem to be held up by buttons along her ass, but I'll handle those when I reach them.

As I cut through the final lace, the corset splits, revealing her back. Not quite the same as the Regency Era, I think, admiring her pale skin.

"Your skirt is going to be a little trickier," I inform her, my voice slightly lower than I intended. But I can't help my physical reaction to her. She's stunning, and my inner animal is eager to taste her.

"O-okay," she says, shivering.

"If you want, you can try it on your own again," I suggest. "Now that your torso is free, I mean."

She swallows, her midnight irises holding mine in the mirror once more. "I… I would prefer your help." The words leave her on a whisper, an array of goose bumps pebbling down her arms.

My tongue feels a bit thick, so I nod rather than reply, and unfasten the top button of her skirt. The fabric parts to show a hint of white lace beneath.

Fuck me,I think. If this is what I think it is…

I pop another button.

Yeah, that's what I think it is.

Definitely not a Regency Era item, but a much more modern one. And fuck, it's translucent.

I have to bite back a low growl as each button displays more creamy skin decorated by lacy lingerie. It fits her beautiful backside perfectly, the virginal white far more of a turn-on than I could ever have expected.

Black and red have always been my preferences in the bedroom.

But Alina… fuck, she looks good in this. Too damn good.

My fingers flex, my claws scraping at my senses. My beast is raging inside at just the small glimpse of lace.

Settle down,I demand.

He snarls back, his feral nature threatening to come out to play.

I close my eyes and steal a deep breath while my fingers work. After several seconds of regaining control, I allow my lashes to flutter open and find Alina still staring at me in the mirror. "Are you okay?" she asks, her unease instantly dampening my growing arousal.

"Yeah," I tell her. "My jaguar…" I trail off, debating how to phrase this without scaring her. "He's very interested in you." There's no point in hiding the attraction. She deserves to know the truth. "I'm just trying to control him."

She swallows again. "Oh. And, um, by ‘interested,' you mean…?"

"He wants me to kiss you," I say, taming down the actual desire coursing through my veins. It's still an honest reply, just not as intense as saying, He wants me to mount you and bite you. I'm sure he would also enjoy kissing her, too.

"I… I see." She clears her throat, her fingers seeming to clutch the fabric a little tighter.

"I'm not going to," I promise her. "Not yet, anyway."

Her eyes widen a little. "So you plan to kiss me?"

I pop the final button, causing the skirt to fall along her legs to the floor. She's left standing in those fucking lace panties and her unfastened corset. "I plan to do a lot more than kiss you, little panther," I inform her, my voice even deeper now. "But not until you tell me you're ready."

I force myself to take a step backward. "I know Jones already said Monster City values consent, but so do I. Orcus and Reaper feel the same way, too. None of us will touch you without your permission. Just remember that, okay?"

Because I can see the fear brewing in her gaze.

As well as a hint of interest.

She's intrigued, but she's also intimidated.

I don't need to know her to be able to see the innocence written all over her. I doubt she's ever felt a man's touch. From what little I've seen, I can tell this society seems to frown upon sexual experience, preferring to preserve the virginity of their Offerings.

Such a flawed concept, I think darkly. I want a willing and wanton woman, not a terrified little virgin bride.

But I'll teach Alina.

Slowly. Purposely. Thoroughly.

And in the end, she'll be a fucking wildcat in bed.

That rebellious nature of hers will absolutely come in handy, too.

"Enjoy your shower," I tell her softly. "If you need anything else, I'll be out in the living area with Orcus and Reaper." I turn, then pause at the door. "Oh, and they're bringing up some clothes. I'll leave some on the bed for you when they arrive."

I go to leave one more time.

Just to stop again.

"Let me know if you want any help with your hair." My voice is gravelly again, forcing me to clear my throat. "I'd be happy to brush it for you."

My jaguar purrs inside at the notion, very pleased by the idea.

He's easily placated. Fucking, sunning, and grooming are three of his favorite pastimes.

With a nod, I finally leave.

And commit the image of her standing there in her lacy panties to memory.