Double Trouble, Triple Heat

Chapter 11

Days pass in strange suspension.

I don't run again. The bond or whatever it is, won't let me, but also—something has shifted. Some wall inside me has cracked, letting in light I didn't know I was missing.

They come around constantly now. Sometimes together, sometimes separately. Firewood appears on my porch. Groceries I didn't buy show up in my kitchen. I wake to find wolf tracks circling the cabin, and I know they've been watching over me through the night.

We don't talk about the baby. Not yet. But I catch them looking at my stomach when they think I won't notice—something fierce and tender in their eyes that makes my chest ache.

The pregnancy symptoms are getting harder to hide. Morning sickness that lasts all day. Exhaustion that hits like a truck. Cravings for things I've never wanted before. They notice. They don't push. But I feel their questions hovering in every silence.

A week after my failed escape, they arrive together with bags of groceries and matching grins.

"We're cooking you dinner," Caspian announces, already spreading ingredients across my counter. "Don't argue."

"Can either of you actually cook?"

"I can," Dominic says. "He can't."

"Lies and slander." Caspian clutches his chest dramatically. "I make excellent toast."

I laugh despite myself. They fill my kitchen with warmth and chaos, moving around each other like they've done this a thousand times. Which, I realize, they probably have.

Dominic's phone buzzes. He checks it, frowns.

"Pack business," he mutters. "I need to take this."

He steps outside, and suddenly it's just me and Caspian, the air between us charged with everything we haven't said.

He's chopping vegetables—badly—but his hands still when he catches me watching.

"You're staring."

"You're interesting."

His smile is crooked, uncertain. "Am I?"

"Why do you do that?" I move closer, leaning against the counter beside him. "Deflect with jokes. Make yourself smaller than you are."

The knife stills completely. He stares at the cutting board like it holds answers.

"Because if I'm funny, people like me." His voice is quiet now, stripped of its usual brightness. "And if they like me, maybe they won't leave."

"Caspian..."

"I was a rogue pup. No family, no pack. Starving in the woods at fifteen when Dominic's father found me." He meets my eyes, and I see the boy he was—alone, afraid, desperate to belong. "He took me in. But I was always the extra one. The charity case. Dominic's shadow."

"You're not a shadow."

"With you, I feel like I could be first. Not second. Not backup." He swallows hard. "That terrifies me."

I take his hand, threading my fingers through his. The touch sends warmth spreading through my chest.

"You're not second to me, Caspian. You never were."

His smile transforms his whole face. He lifts my hand to his mouth, pressing kisses to my knuckles, my wrist, the sensitive center of my palm. Each touch of his lips sends sparks down my spine.

"Tell me to stop," he murmurs against my skin. "And I will."

"What if I don't want you to stop?"

His breath catches. Then he's pulling me closer, hands cupping my face, silver eyes searching mine.

"Then I'm going to kiss you."

The kiss starts soft—testing, questioning. Then I make a sound against his mouth and his control snaps. He kisses me deep and hungry, one hand tangling in my hair, the other pressing against my lower back.

When we break apart, both breathing hard, he rests his forehead against mine.

"We should probably stop before Dom comes back."

"Probably."

Neither of us moves.

The door opens. Dominic steps inside, takes one look at us—flushed, breathless, standing too close—and something unreadable crosses his face.

But it's not anger. It's... hunger.

"We need wine," Caspian says abruptly. "For the sauce. I'll run to the store."

He's gone before I can protest, leaving me alone with Dominic and the tension thick enough to choke on.

Dominic hasn't moved from the doorway. His jaw is tight, his hands fisted at his sides.

"You've been keeping your distance," I say. "Even when you're here. Why?"

"Because I don't trust myself around you." The words come out rough. "Every instinct I have screams to claim you. To take you. I'm trying to be better than that."

"Maybe I don't want you to be better."

His eyes flash gold. "Don't say things you don't mean."

"Who says I don't mean them?"

He moves then—three steps that close the distance between us, backing me against the counter. His hands grip the edge on either side of my hips, caging me without touching.

"The woman from the diner," I manage. "Luna. Tell me."

His jaw tightens. "Luna was supposed to be my mate. My father arranged it. I thought I loved her."

"What happened?"

"She slept with another wolf. A week before our ceremony." His voice is flat, but I see the old wound beneath. "She said I was too cold. Too controlling. That I'd never know how to love anyone."

"She was wrong."

"Was she?" His laugh is bitter. "I closed myself off after that. Decided love was weakness." His eyes meet mine, molten gold. "Then you came back. And you make me want things I buried, Sera. You make me want to be weak."

I reach up, touch his face. Feel the stubble rough against my palm. He leans into it, eyes closing, a growl catching in his throat.

When his eyes open, they're barely human.

"Sera." My name is a warning and a plea.

I rise on my toes and press my lips to the corner of his mouth.

He shudders. His hands leave the counter to grip my hips, and I feel him fighting—the war between want and restraint.

The door opens. Caspian returns with wine.

He takes in the scene—us pressed together, Dominic's hands on me, my lips still tingling—and grins.

"Good. We're all on the same page then."

Dinner happens somehow. Chaos and laughter and burnt pasta that Dominic saves with extra sauce. Somewhere between the cooking and the eating, they ask about Joseph.

"The man who found you at the cabin," Dominic says. "Tell us."

So I do. The job. The harassment that started small. The night he cornered me in his office, told me I owed him.

"I hit him with a stapler. Broke his nose. Then I ran." My voice shakes. "He blacklisted me. Started following me. That's why I came here."

Dominic's knuckles go white. Caspian's eyes flash silver.

"He'll never touch you again," Dominic says, deadly soft. "We'll protect you. Whether you want us to or not."

It should feel controlling. Instead, it feels like safety.

After dinner, we stand in my small kitchen. The dishes are done, the wine is gone, and none of us seems willing to break the spell.

Caspian moves behind me, hands settling on my shoulders, thumbs tracing slow circles on my neck. The touch sends shivers down my spine.

Dominic steps closer from the front, caging me between them. His hand comes up to tilt my chin, forcing me to meet his golden gaze.

The heat of their bodies surrounds me—Caspian solid and warm at my back, Dominic fierce and burning before me. I can feel their heartbeats through the bond, racing in tandem with mine.

"We can wait," Dominic murmurs. "As long as you need."

But his eyes say he's barely holding on. And Caspian's breath is hot against my ear, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of my neck.

"We want you," Caspian whispers. "Both of us. Together."

My whole body trembles. I should tell them about the pregnancy. I open my mouth—

Headlights sweep across the windows. Then more.

Dominic's eyes flash gold. His whole body goes rigid.

"Stay inside."

Through the glass, wolves emerge from vehicles. Six. Seven. More.

Luna stands at the front, expression carved from ice.

"Pack meeting, Alpha." Her voice carries through the door. "Now. About the human."