Chapter 4 I'm All Caught Up
1533 Words
Magnus POV (Explicit – Scenes Ahead)
The warmth beside him was unmistakable—soft, curved, and intoxicating. Her skin was silk under his fingers, the curve of her hip fitting perfectly in his hand as if carved from his own rib. Her curls spilled across the pillow in wild spirals that smelled like lavender and lust.
Shit. He was still here. Again.
Magnus opened his eyes, and there she was, back to him, sleeping like she belonged in his bed—because she did. No matter how many times he told himself this needed to stop, his body betrayed him. His heart did worse.
His c**k was already hard, nestled between her cheeks, reacting to the quiet rhythm of her breath. He pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder, inhaling her. She giggled softly.
“Again?” she whispered, voice still laced with sleep.
He growled low, deep in his chest, lips dragging along her neck as his hand slid forward to cup her breast. She sighed and arched into him, her n****e hardening under his touch.
“You’re always ready for me,” he murmured, voice thick with desire.
She reached back, pulling his head closer. “Because I know you need it.”
And he did. Gods, he did.
In one swift motion, he rolled her onto her back and moved between her thighs. She opened for him instinctively, her slick heat waiting. He slid inside her in one powerful thrust, and both of them gasped—him from the tight, wet clench of her body; her from the stretch, the fullness, the need she’d been holding in all night.
Magnus didn’t ease into her wetness. He couldn’t. He gripped her hips and pounded into her with the kind of hunger only she ignited—fast, hard, desperate. Her nails scraped down his back, leaving red trails that made his wolf, Titus, howl with satisfaction.
“f**k,” she whimpered, biting her lip as her legs locked around his waist.
“You like it hard, baby?” he snarled into her neck.
She nodded, moaning, “Don’t stop—don’t ever stop.”
Her body clamped down around him as she came, gasping his name. He wasn’t done. Not even close. He flipped her onto her stomach, pulled her ass up, and drove into her core again, groaning as she met each thrust with feral energy.
The slap of skin, the wet sound of their connection, the scent of s*x and sweat—it was primal. Addictive.
He leaned over her, hand sliding down to rub her c**t. She cried out, coming again in violent waves that left her trembling. He followed right after, grunting, biting down on her shoulder as he emptied himself inside her, hips jerking with the final thrusts.
They collapsed together, panting. He pulled her back against his chest, his c**k still seated inside, his heart thundering in sync with hers.
“I should go,” he whispered.
“You won’t,” she murmured.
And she was right.
But the universe didn’t give a f**k about their stolen morning.
His phone lit up, then the mind links came crashing in.
“Alpha King! Rogues—hundreds—attacking the border! We’re under siege!”
“s**t!” Magnus roared, already leaping from the bed. “The kingdom’s under attack again.”
“Of course it is,” Shawna muttered, grabbing a towel.
“Come on,” he said, grabbing her waist and dragging her into the shower. “One more. Just one more. Then I’ll go.”
“You said that last night.”
“I meant it then, too.”
They slammed against the tile, her leg around his hip as he entered her again under the spray of hot water. The urgency didn’t dampen the pleasure—it amplified it. Quick, brutal, desperate. He took her like a man about to walk into war.
And when the final wave of pleasure hit, his wolf surged beneath his skin, growling in contentment.
Then came the final mind link—his son’s voice, frantic and afraid.
“Dad, you’ve got to hurry. They’re breaching. We’re overwhelmed!”
Magnus pulled away, kissed her hard, and shifted into his massive wolf as soon as he stepped outside. Fur bristling, fangs bared, he ran toward his pack's territory, lungs burning, paws pounding, already covered in blood and sweat in his mind.
He had a kingdom to protect.
But part of him still wanted to turn around and go back.
Back to her.
Back to home.
Shawna / Morgana’s POV
She never expected her life to turn out like this.
Presumed dead. Forgotten by most. Her beautiful daughter, Liza, banished to gods-knew-where—still a gaping wound in her heart that no time or love could stitch shut. Her revenge, once a righteous fire, had dimmed under the heavy blanket of motherhood. Of unexpected love. Of falling for one of the enemies she had sworn to destroy.
And worst of all?
She let it happen.
Fell for Magnus—the Alpha King. A known womanizer, a brutal warrior, a cold bastard when he wanted to be. But never to her. And never to their pups.
Not to Leo. Not to the twins.
The same man who used to be her target was now the one who made sure their children were kissed goodnight, who snuck in through her spell-bound doorway four times a week, who sat cross-legged on the floor and let little Leo put stickers in his beard.
Yeah, he was still a cheater. Still a liar. Still mated to that deranged Luna b***h, Lisa, who was obsessed with sniffing out his every move like some desperate dog in heat.
But Lisa would never find her.
Morgana—formerly Shawna—had made damn sure of it.
Her house was cloaked in ancient magic, layered in binding sigils, blood spells, and cloaking wards that would snap Lisa’s nose off if she so much as sneezed too close. Only those allowed in could see it. Smell it. Walk through its threshold.
And Lisa? That psychotic, title-hungry queen? She’d kill the pups just to keep her status.
Not again. Never again.
Morgana brushed the edge of her reflection in the bathroom mirror, her real appearance showing only to herself, tightening the silk robe around her waist. She looked older now. Not aged—just... wise. Like loss had carved something eternal into her. And maybe it had.
Her ears perked at the sound of Leo’s little voice shouting, “Momma! I made a messy!”
She chuckled, already stepping out barefoot onto the hardwood.
There he was—chubby hands lifted like he’d just summoned a storm. Cereal splattered across the counter, milk dripping off the edge. And that smile—mischievous and proud. He had Magnus’s eyes and her grin. A deadly combination.
“Aww, baby, it’s okay. Let me clean it up.”
With a flick of her wrist, everything righted itself—milk lifted and poured back, cereal swept neatly into the bowl, and the mess vanished with a sparkle of light. Leo clapped.
“Momma! I can do that!” he shouted, his little fingers lifting toward the cereal box.
Morgana froze, watching.
The box tipped. Cereal started to spill.
Then—
He stopped it. Mid-air.
And with childlike control—but unmistakable power—Leo reversed it. The cereal returned to the box, neatly, like time had rewound itself.
Morgana blinked. Her heart skipped.
Shit. Leo has magic.
And he was only three.
“Come here, baby.” She kissed his curls, heart pounding. “No showing Dadda, okay?”
“Okay, Momma,” he said with wide eyes.
She knelt and kissed his cheeks, holding him just a little longer than normal. Her boy was special—dangerously special. Lisa would tear him apart if she found out.
She finished preparing breakfast for the pups—yogurt swirled with honey, fresh-cut mango and apples, and cereal placed neatly in unicorn and wolf-themed bowls.
She glanced at the clock. 7:05 a.m.
Magnus had left only an hour ago, his scent still clinging to her sheets. Her thighs still sore. Her heart still traitorous.
She sat at the edge of the kitchen island, chin resting in her palm, watching the babies eat and giggle.
Maybe this was the Moon Goddess’s sick way of giving her a second chance.
But forgiveness? f**k that.
She hadn’t forgotten the ones who hurt her daughter. Who cast Liza aside like trash. Who called her a traitor, a w***e, a monster.
Even Magnus, who she now loved in some twisted, unavoidable way—he would have to pay in some form too. Maybe not with blood, but with regret. He’d never get all of her. He didn’t deserve it.
Her fingers flexed as she felt the tug of dark magic still inside her, coiled and ready.
They would all pay. Eventually.
But not now.
Now, she wiped Leo’s mouth and tickled Lilly under the chin. Now, she was momma. Protector. Witch. Lover. Destroyer.
A woman reborn in the ruins of her rage.
And this time?
She was going to finish what she started.
- Writer
