SIENNA’S POV:
Jinx drags me through memories of Blue Moon territory while I chase her wolf form; then the wolfsbane potion hits. I am back in a life stolen before things were rewritten.
Anne Marie and I graduated from Wolf Springs High with honors. Seven years ago we left Lakeview, which is just a quiet, rural spot behind our pack lands. Now I walk the paths of Wolf Springs University. It is a medical campus funded by the Kindred Souls hive pack in the neighboring metropolis of Moon Crest territory. I am twenty four. I have a medical intern badge clipped to my scrubs and a wolf that is fully awake. I am not that clumsy little honey bee anymore.
The Greyson Medical Institute is all glass and sharp corners. Honestly, it hurts my eyes to even look at it in the sun. Today, I assisted Dr. Patrick Greyson in surgery for my first official scrub-in. My hands were steady the entire time. Thank the goddess.
"He'll make a full recovery," he says, clapping my shoulder; while Dr. Lucas Knox nods in approval.
Their praise felt like a warm hug. All I ever wanted to do was prove myself to him. And not just him but his colleagues as well.
Later that day, we turn onto the road leading to the Greyson Royal Compound. The sun goes down and dark clouds roll in.
We eat burgers in greasy paper with salty fries and thick shakes. Our typical ritual after a long day at his hospital. Patrick eats his fast and leaves crumbs on his expensive pants. I watch his fingers flex on the wheel.
"You animal," I say. I pluck a fry from his thigh. His muscle twitches under my fingers. "Fries everywhere."
Patrick looks at me. His pupils grow wide before he looks back at the road. His blonde hair hits his shoulders.
"Yeah; well when you become a hungry wolf like me, in and out of surgeries all day, then you'll learn to eat quick and sloppy t..."
"And there is lettuce too," I say, cutting him off. I fold my wrapper and drag my nails along his thigh to get the crumbs. He breathes in sharp. "Such a nice car to mess..."
"Luckily, I pay people to clean it," he cuts in, his voice sounding tight as we pass through the security gates.
He hits the gas and throws me against the seat. I gasp. He laughs loud.
"Not funny, Dr. Patrick," I say. I cross my arms and push my chest up. The hedges and omega quarters blur by. "Some wolves shouldn't be trusted to drive..."
"Oh, my goddess," he mocks me. laughing. "You should have seen your face. Scared we're going to get into an accident, are you Cee..."
"No," I say. I bite my lip as he stops the Bentley in the roundabout driveway.
Patrick moves fast. He is at my door before I can unbuckle. The air smells like wet pavement as he lifts me out. He squeezes my waist, arms wrapped around me. My legs dangle. His arms feel like heavy steel bands as he spins me around and around.
The valet takes the car. We are alone now. And Elizabeth (his wife) is not home. Jinx purrs her contentment in my head.
He kisses my cheek and moves his lips near mine. "I'm sorry love; if I scared you, driving so..."
I just smile. The rain begins to fall. But now we are kissing (the kind where you forget to breathe) and he tastes of mint and thick milkshakes. Water slides down my fingers; it feels slimy as I grip his hair. I lean into him as he makes a groaning sound in his throat. The clouds break and soak us to the bone.
We lock lips again. My heart is thumping against my ribs rapidly. My skin feels tight. When we pull apart, he looks at me with those blue eyes; Naeo is flickering in there. The wind hits my wet skin and makes me shiver. My nipples harden against his rock hard chest.
"Oh, you poor thing... Sienna, you're so wet. Are you..."
"I'm fine," I say.
"Let me take you inside. Get you all dry. You'll need something big and warm like me to cuddle with..."
Before I can answer, he moves. One second we are in the downpour; the next, he is carrying me. He hauls me into the mansion (wolf-fast) and up the stairs. He doesn't take me to my room. No. He takes me to “his” suite, the one he shares with her. She isn't here. The room smells like stale air and rain. I hear it hitting the window.
He puts me down and disappears, then comes back with towels. My clothes are sticking to me (they are basically transparent now). His jaw tightens. He grunts, wrapping me in the fabric, rubbing it over my arms and waist. My chest feels heavy.
He dries himself off with quick, rough movements. I walk to the window to watch the storm. The room is lavish but too big; it feels empty. He moves toward me and stops. We just stare at each other. We don't need a mind-link for this. I can feel the heat and desire coming off him.
The lamps cast long shadows over the bed. We don't speak. Our minds touch (that mate kind of thing), but he isn't my mate. At my party, our wolves didn't howl for each other. There was no roar. Yet here we are. Still connected somehow. Just like we had on my family’s farmhouse porch that evening (seven years ago).
The room smells like old coffee and that sterile hospital soap on our clothes.
Jinx stirs inside me. "Go to him, Cee-Cee."
I take a step. He reaches out and puts his hand on my throat. A drop of rain is still on my neck; he thumbs it away.
"Oh, yes..." Jinx whines in my mind. "Tell him..."
He waits. He wants permission. I can hear his heart beating; it sounds like a drum. He is an Alpha King (older, sharper ears), and he can hear mine too.
"I can't, Jinx," I say in my head. "He has a wife."
"She's not his mate..."
"And he's not ours. It's wrong."
"It's not wrong," she snarls in my head. "He is our mate. You just don't know it yet..."
"But how?"
The question slips out (aloud). Jinx goes quiet in me. He’s closer now. I lean into him. My body is the answer he seeks.
"Thank you," he says against my ear.
His cock is hard against my hip. He slides his hands to my waist; his skin is rough. He kisses me. It's slow and mesmerizing. Naeo is simmering under the surface of his skin. He moves his hands up my sides, skimming my breasts. I try to remember he isn't my mate but my mind is malfunctioning to his touch.
He lifts me and drops me onto the silk sheets of his massive bed. The fabric is slippery. He’s atop me, pressing me down, heavy and solid. His hardened length is like a hot iron against my damp pants. My stomach feels tight. I feel boneless under him.
He moves his hands all over me. I dig my nails into his back. He kisses my neck and chest. I grip his stiffness and he feels like warm steel.
"Ohhh, honey bee," he moans. His voice is rough. He tastes my neck with one lick.
I guide him down, holding his steel firm. We rub against each other through the wet fabric. He smells like woodsmoke and winter pine. The tension from my last few semesters finally snaps. I can't ignore him anymore.
Our clothes are useless barriers. He looks at my white blouse; it is see through. He curls his fingers around my throat and then cups my breasts with his other hand. He says something filthy in my ear, the kind of things I’ve always imagined during his lectures.
He rubs my nipples until I shake. Then he growls, one of his hands, the nails shifting into wolf claws; and rips my clothes away. The fabric splits.
"Oh my," he says, looking down at my chest. My peaks are swollen tight.
I bite my lip. I know what comes next.
"No... Dr. Patrick," I murmur. "Please...?"
He is huge. I feel it throbbing against me. There’s a flicker of fear, but Jinx tells me to stay. He rips off my underwear and breathes in the scent. He licks and sucks my nipples until I writhe under his weight. He knows exactly what he’s doing.
I am bare. He tastes every inch of me like he is starving.
"No," I whisper, but his tongue flicks against me. Warmth pools between my thighs.
He strips his own clothes off quickly. His cock pulses, and a drop of pre-cum lands on my stomach. He leans in.
"Yes," he says against my nipple. "There's no going..."
I tilt my head back. My muscles clench as his eyes lock onto mine. He crashes his mouth over my lips.
I am too tired to fight the way my brain scatters. I am young, sure, but this hunger is just a physical weight in my gut. It has sat there since I was seventeen, experimenting with him on the porch. Now I am in my twenties and the feeling never went away.
His body is huge; five times my size. His pale skin feels hot against mine, that massive figure pinning my smaller frame against the bed. He maps my mocha skin with his hands; taking his time.
My father would hate this. He calls me his honey bee, but here I am with Dr. Greyson. He is a Lycan, ten thousand years old, from the old world called Pandora. Lost to time. I trace the ridges of his chest. His nipples are pink and stark. His heart pounds under my palm; it feels like a heavy hammer. We are not mates, so the label is missing. But do we care? His cock presses between my thighs. Jinx surges in my mind; Naeo lingers in his eyes.
His hands have known war and surgery. They roam my body, relentlessly. His fingers are thick, turning tender as they pull me higher. He is patient; teasing the orgasm from me until I writhe. His kisses are hungry.
He flips us fast. I gasp as I settle on top of him; my thighs bracket his hips. He knows I fit perfectly. His grip tightens on my waist; he guides me down with one thrust. I feel him penetrate me. It is the feeling I have wanted since my teens. My walls stretch; it burns. He moves slowly, watching me.
"Don’t be afraid, Cee-Cee," he says, his voice rough. "You’ll love it all the..."
"I already do, Dr. Patrick," I breathe. I bite my lip as he guides me back down. My inner walls clench around him.
His thrusts get bolder. He grips my ass and drags me down. I arch into every stroke. I dig my nails into his thighs. Outside, lightning flares and thunder shakes the walls. My next orgasm hits wild and tight.
"Oh yes, Cee-Cee," he groans. His voice is guttural as my pussy contracts.
He is gentle, though my tightness makes him shudder. He slides out and sinks back in. He fills me completely.
"No, Patrick," I pant. "Please...?"
I do not know what I am begging for. My body feels like a string pulled tight and then let go. His warm hands anchor my hips. He guides me down on his shaft. I move, and he holds me steady each time my pussy clenches.
He slides me up and down. My breasts sway against his face. I see amusement in those ocean eyes (half Patrick, half Naeo) before lust takes over. He steadies me like a doll. He takes one nipple between his lips.
His mouth is wet, warm and slow. Sparks shoot to my core. My pussy tightens on his shaft; he growls. The sound vibrates through my bones. He thrusts deeper. My breasts bounce.
He switches to the other nipple. Both peaks ache in the night air; they are swollen and sensitive. Another growl rumbles from his chest as I orgasm again.
"You're so perfect, Sienna," he says. He thumb-brushes over my buds.
My legs instinctively lock around him as he grips my waist, guiding me along his length. I dig my heels into his back. I am teetering, my heart’s pounding, pussy clenching in intervals. Friction builds until we cannot hold back.
His blue eyes stay locked on mine. They are dark. He’s savoring me. Our breathing is ragged. He presses his hands into my hips; taking me down slowly, filling me inch by inch. He is wet and slick. I am smooth and tight.
He pulses inside me, tracing my breasts with his thumbs. The thought that I am his plaything tonight slithers through my head.
"Will he keep me?" I ask Jinx (internally). I instantly recoil from the thought. "No... stop it, Sienna. Why would you..."
"Yes, Sienna," Jinx answers abruptly. "We are his."
"No... he can't have us," I snap aloud.
He chuckles and surges into me again. He leans in and flicks his tongue against my neck. I squirm. Jinx howls inside me. Rain lashes against the windows of his suite. He grips my ass and forces me to take every inch once more.
His fangs drop and my heart begins to stutter. I know what’s happening next and I’m not fighting to stop it. He gives one lick and then bites, piercing my skin with those sharp canines. The sting melts into pleasure as he suckles and drinks. He’s marking me. Right on my mate mark spot. Each pull of his mouth sends tremors through me.
"Ohhh... Patrick," I moan. Then shame hits me.
He’s my boss. My superior. An elder wolf. My father’s best friend. I should be calling him Dr. Greyson (if not Lord Greyson).
"I'm sorry... so sor..."
He laughs, interrupting my pathetic apology. The sound vibrates through us.
"No, don't be... my little honey bee," he says against my ear.
His knot swells tight, locking us together. With one final thrust, his climax pulses hot and slick into me. My body convulses (wave after wave), eyes flying open. He watches me, then licks the bite mark clean. The knot that forms there on my neck seals his hold on my body and my wolf. Jinx surges forward. She binds herself to him and Naeo; their wolf forms (her’s grey, his’ all white) run side-by-side in what appears to be the Woods of Wolf Springs within my mindspace. A howl tears from Patrick's throat. He’s done creaming me to death.
He hits the mattress and pulls me down with him. We are still joined. The walls we built over the years are just rubble now. Everything is quiet except for the sound of us gasping for air. And our beating hearts. The storm outside is dying too.
"Why did you let me take you, Sienna?" he asks. He sounds amused, which is annoying. I know he heard me shout that out. It was only meant for my wolf. Stupid me.
"How dare y..." I start, but my body just curls into him once he begins rubbing my back.
I match his gentle strokes by tracing lines on his chest.
"You're mine now, Sienna," he says.
"Yes, we are..." Jinx agrees, and the mate mark snaps into place. It feels like a heavy weight on my skin. The silver crescent symbol is going to show up on my neck soon. It is meant for the queen, the true Superior Luna of the hive. That is Elizabeth. Not me. He is her husband, yet he’s never marked her for six thousand years. I do not get why.
His alpha power hits me like a hot flash. The deal is sealed. It is heavy. I am his now. My eyelids feel like lead.
"I love you, Sienna. Never forget that. You’re mine now," he says. His voice is thick and soothing. He kisses my forehead. His lips are warm. I close my eyes. Then everything goes black.
I wake up gasping. I am tangled in thin, silky sheets on a servant's bed (which is not really like the ones they should sleep on but much, much better) in the Timmons-Von-Dracula estate. I am eighteen again. An omega. My limbs feel heavy, like they are bags filled with wet sand, because of the wolfsbane and witch’s potion. The room is dark. Anne Marie is lying across from me on her own bed. She is not moving. I cannot tell if she is still drugged or just sleeping.
"Oh, my goddess," I say. My throat feels scratchy like it is full of shard glass.
"Yes, Sienna! We were his. He claimed us. That’s what they don't want you to know." Jinx answers in my head.
"But that's impossible, Jinx. I was twenty four. I'm only..." I try to kick, but my legs do not move.
Her wolf form paces inside me. She nudges my thoughts.
"Eighteen. I know. It just means that’s how long you lived before the spell reset you. Sometimes, when fates are realigned, time bends backward. To the age someone wanted you..."
"So, these are real memories?" I ask.
It’s not a dream. Someone ripped that life away. Maybe to hurt me, maybe to save me. I doubt I will find out soon.
"Yes, my dear. This all happened before. The Moon Goddess wants us to remember..." Jinx growls. Her voice pulls me back under. "Sleep now, so we can see more..."
The potion takes over again, forcing my eyes shut. Everything goes dark. Then, I am in a field. Jinx streaks ahead and I run after her. Laughter fills my chest. I feel freed. Another dream is waiting. More truth to be told.