Chapter Twenty-Three

Kane

The cabin reeks of sex when I return, my kill in tow. I trudge through to the kitchen, not sure I’m ready to find Willow splayed out on another alpha’s knot. He’s purring for her, making her gasp and whine.

In the end, it’s those sweet little noises that draw me back in.

He’s got her lying flat on her front, claiming her with deep, languid thrusts. She chokes into the pillow every time he bottoms out.

Suddenly all my anger is forgotten, leaving nothing but my raging hard-on.

“Kane.” She smiles deliriously.

I kneel at her bedside, smoothing her hair back. “Easy, bunny. You’re drooling.”

She laughs, then groans, as the other alpha rolls in deeper.

I cut him a glare. “You did that on purpose.”

Willow claws at the sheets, prompting me to take her hand. If I’m not holding her, there’s nothing to stop me fisting my cock—and now I’ve knotted her, I don’t want to come another other way.

“Fuck,” the other alpha mutters. “I’m going to fill you up nice and deep, little one. Gonna … fuck … knot this gorgeous pussy.”

He coaxes her up to climax, waiting until she’s screaming before he finally seals them together. His eyes flutter, groaning, as he bucks against his knot. Finally, he slumps over Willow’s back, careful not to crush her.

“’Atta girl.” I kiss her knuckles. “He filled you up good, huh?”

Her smile melts into the bedsheets. “Uh … huh.”

“He fuck you good and stupid, too?”

She giggles, and I want to freeze time, to live in a constant goddamn loop of that sound. “Yes, alpha.”

The other alpha nuzzles the nape of her neck. This time I’m not even mad. Well, that’s a lie. I’m pissed. But maybe I don’t care that I’m pissed. Willow’s happy, and right now … that’s good enough for me.

***

“Alpha. Alpha. Alpha! ”

“That the spot, bunny?” I grin, picking up the pace. “Fuck yeah. That the fuckin’ spot.”

“Come on, omega,” the other alpha purrs, “come for your alpha.”

The words send both me and Willow half crazy. I grip her ass, loving the way it glows pink at my touch. Nothing beats mounting her—my sweet bunny on all fours, face pressed into another alpha’s chest, the two of us propping her up so she doesn’t fall flat.

She screams again, her pussy clamping down. I curse.

“Omega—!”

She’s coming. I’m coming. I thrust my knot in, making sure she doesn’t spill a drop.

The other alpha smooths her tangled curls off to one side, murmuring too low for me to hear.

For the first time in over a day, I find myself grateful. He sure knows how to calm my girl down, after I’ve gotten her all riled up.

I don’t pull out until she’s fast asleep on his chest. She grumbles faintly at the emptiness, or maybe it’s at the come dribbling between her thighs … and pooling on the other alpha’s stomach.

He eyes me meaningfully. “Little help, rogue?”

I smirk. “With what?”

He growls.

Taking my time, I pick up the damp cloth, rinsing and wringing it out. Willow doesn’t wake as I wipe her thighs, gently padding her pink, come-filled center.

Ah, shit . Now I’m hard again.

“For god’s sake …” the alpha mutters. “It’s drying .”

“Quit whining.” I slap the cloth down on his stomach. “You’ll wake her up.”

“I doubt it. For a barbarian, you sure have a soothing knot.”

“For a bastard , you’ve sure got a big mouth.”

He smiles, then hisses, as I wring cold water out on his stomach. “How’s this? I cut back on the insults, and you cut back on … uh …” he gestures vaguely. “Whatever this is.”

“Do you want me to punch you?”

Neither of us speak for several moments, basking in the sweet rhythm of Willow’s breathing. I keep washing her down, paying extra care to the places she’s still pink and tender.

Quieter, the alpha says, “Alright. I cut back on the insults, and you start calling me by my name.”

I scowl. “Huh?”

“Actually, it’s Silas.”

I put the cloth down. Silas . About as dickish as I expected.

“No more bastard , no more asshole .” He stares at Willow. “Especially not in front of her.”

That much, it pains me to agree with. Her inner omega seems to like it when we’re not biting each other’s heads off.

“Fine,” I grunt. “But I want something else in return.”

“Name it.”

I stand, hovering over the bed. “You can call me whatever you want. Rogue, barbarian, I don’t give a shit. But her—” I grit my teeth. “You call her Willow .”

I’m so ready for him to make fun of me that his blank expression comes as a surprise. Does he not understand?

“Enough pet names,” I insist. “That’s all I’m asking.” If I have to hear him purr one more ‘sweet girl’, I really am going to bite his head off.

“Willow?” he says at last.

“Yeah.” I cross my arms. “That gonna be a problem?”

His jaw flexes. He watches Willow, still asleep, his hand no longer moving through her hair.

“Let me get back to you on that,” he mutters.