The fever refused to break after the first violent wave.
It clung to me like smoke, sinking deeper into every muscle and nerve. Each breath felt scorched, heavy with the scent of my own slick and the alphas’ lingering musk. The room spun faintly when I tried to move, the stone walls blurring at the edges.
I woke tangled in thick furs that stuck to my sweat-damp skin. My thighs were still slick, sticky with fresh release that had leaked out while I slept. My hole throbbed in steady pulses, clenching around nothing, desperate for pressure, for fullness.
The alphas’ scents saturated everything. Thorne’s sharp metallic edge. Aurelius’s smoky cedar aggression. Cassian’s quiet, dark spice.
Every inhale dragged the ache lower and made my c**k twitch against my stomach.
Thorne sat on the low
