Icy Nights: Mated to The Three Alphas

ss

the middle, but it's the only thing

it in my hands and splash my face, but the chi

and b

oops in my head

ike I can wipe his words off my skin. My reflection stare

underneath the cheap lavender soap of the bathroom

e door. I need Tinsley. I need Brooke. I need to get o

d hits me like a physical blow. Neon lights, spilled

old, needing to ground myself. I'm lifting it to my lips, tr

a runs over my knuc

artins. Ri

carefully. Pronouncing every syllable like he's counting the

with

anywhere with

e. Don't ma

e. His hand drops to my lower back. Fingers dig just enough to steady

look at the wet patch

ps mine. Beer splashes my other arm. I don't look down. I'm too busy

are we

t wa

are st

n't c

sounds personally upset. And I keep thinking, if he's this worked up, it means

rling in brown strips. Wet wool from winter coats. Fryer grease clinging

ildew. The door clicks shut. The bass disappears

nk my wrist back. "You think

There's nowhere else to put myself. His hands plant on ei

let Jonah put his hands all over you,

n't le

dn't st

ly rocks. "You have a girl

y eyes. Those nails digging little half-moons into his c

the shelf beside my ear like the answer might be printed

is about Jonah, about the bar, about territory. But he can't hold my gaze

ted thinking about me, neither of us c

are you

n't k

move. I don't. Soap

doing a

voice drop

isse

. The other grips my hip through my jeans. I make a sound

Not grabbing. Mapping. His lips part against mine, jus

audible. Rough. "You taste

er until my stomach presses flat against his. I can feel the hard line of him through his sl

ays. His hand

't w

ok at me

e wh

supposed t

to mine. Half a sec

a plastic bucket. It clatters aga

A thin taste of blood lingers

e shelf metal until the skin over his knuckles stretches white. Pine resin and cold stone pour off h

restraint vibrating off him.

ehow worse tha

re his hand gripped my hip.

" I start. Bar

oc

Are you

harp. A

e doesn't fix his shirt. He fixes mine. Pulls my

Slips out before I

ooking everywhere for you. Wha

needed a minu

eps. F

something inside is pressing outward. Something changing. The bleach is making my head

ate. The one that m

d him t

phone. Flashl

washing machine shoved in the corner. A crescent of dried detergent

my e

the door. That's what I think first. The WOLVES sig

e surface. It's inside. Behi

oming f

e hits concrete. Screen lights up

rd the weak glow. Search for another flash.

same brown they've be

th

hree men. I could blame the scent, the heat

xplain my