Claimed by three Alphas

Chapter 2: The Den

They carried me like I was already theirs.

My wrists burned where Aurelius gripped them, his fingers locked like manacles forged for this exact purpose. Cassian’s hands stayed firm on my waist, thumbs pressing into the dip above my hips with just enough force to remind me escape was a fantasy I could no longer afford. Thorne walked ahead, setting the brutal pace with long, unhurried strides. Each step crushed pine needles and brittle branches beneath his heavy boots. The sound was rhythmic, final. No one spoke. Words were unnecessary now.

The forest thickened around us until the path narrowed to a single-file trail. Branches clawed at my bare arms and legs, leaving fresh welts that stung in the cold night air. Moonlight dwindled to thin silver threads that barely pierced the canopy. The temperature dropped sharply; my breath fogged in short, panicked bursts. Their scents closed in tighter, inescapable. Thorne’s metallic bite of steel and worn leather. Aurelius’s smoke and raw, crackling aggression. Cassian’s dark spice, quiet and pervasive, like smoke that had settled into every corner of my lungs.

My body refused to stop betraying me.

Slick kept dripping, steady and humiliating. It soaked through the thin fabric of my pants until the material clung wetly to my skin. Every time I shifted in their hold, the slick slide between my thighs forced my hole to clench harder, aching with empty, insistent need. Heat pulsed low in my gut, spreading like wildfire through my veins. My n*****s tightened against the damp shirt. My c**k twitched, half-hard despite the terror clawing at my chest. I hated it. I hated them. Most of all, I hated the whimper that tried to crawl up my throat and the way my hips wanted to tilt toward their touch.

We broke through a final line of pines. A massive stone structure rose ahead, carved into the sheer face of the mountain itself. Not a house. A den. Thick timber walls reinforced with black iron bands. Narrow windows like arrow slits glared out into the night. Torches burned in iron sconces flanking the heavy oak door, flames snapping in the wind. Two guards stood sentinel, shadows in leather and fur. They nodded once to Thorne as he approached. Their eyes slid past me without lingering. They knew better than to look at what belonged to the triad.

Thorne shoved the door open with one broad shoulder. A rush of heat poured out, carrying the thick scent of wood smoke, cured pelts, and s*x so potent it coated the back of my tongue. My stomach twisted violently.

They carried me inside.

The main chamber stretched wide and low-ceilinged. A stone floor disappeared beneath layers of thick wolf and bear pelts. A massive hearth dominated one wall; logs cracked and spat in the roaring fire. Low couches piled with furs ringed the space. Chains hung from the heavy ceiling beams, not decoration but tools, their links glinting dully in the firelight. A wide fur rug dominated the center of the room, dark and plush.

Aurelius released my wrist first. He shoved me forward. My bare feet hit the rug; I stumbled, knees buckling. Cassian let go of my waist but remained close behind, a solid wall of heat and possession. Thorne shut the door with a heavy thud that echoed through the stone. The sound sealed us in.

I spun to face them, chest heaving. “Let me go.”

Thorne’s smile was slow, dangerous, all teeth. “No.”

Aurelius circled me again, predatory. He sniffed the air deliberately. “Gods, he reeks of need. Already dripping like a b***h in heat.”

“Shut up,” I snapped, voice cracking on the last syllable.

Thorne stepped closer. He towered over me, shadow swallowing the firelight behind him. “You talk too much, little omega.”

His hand shot out and seized the collar of my shirt. One brutal yank ripped the fabric down the front. Threads tore with a sharp sound. Cool air kissed my bare chest. I tried to cover myself, arms crossing instinctively. Cassian caught my wrists from behind and pinned them to my sides. His grip was iron, unyielding.

Thorne’s green eyes roamed over my exposed skin. My n*****s pebbled in the sudden heat of the room and under the weight of his stare. He dragged one rough finger down the center of my sternum, slow and deliberate, stopping just above the waistband of my pants.

“Pretty,” he murmured. “Soft. Breakable.”

I jerked against Cassian’s hold. “Don’t touch me.”

Aurelius laughed, low and mocking. “He says that now.”

Thorne hooked a finger into my waistband and tugged. The pants slid down my hips with humiliating ease. I twisted, kicked, heels scraping uselessly against the rug. Cassian tightened his grip until my shoulders ached. The fabric pooled at my ankles. Slick glistened on my inner thighs, shining in the firelight. Obvious. Shameful.

Thorne crouched. His face leveled with my groin. He inhaled deeply, nostrils flaring. “f**k. Sweet. Wet. Mine.”

“Not yours,” I hissed through clenched teeth.

He looked up, green eyes gone dark with hunger. “We’ll see.”

He rose in one fluid motion and nodded to the others.

Cassian lifted me without effort, arms banding around my ribs. He carried me to a low, padded bench positioned near the hearth. Thick leather straps waited at each corner, buckles already loosened. He laid me face-up. My back hit the supple padding. My arms were stretched above my head; Aurelius fastened the wrist cuffs with practiced efficiency. Tight. Secure. The leather bit into my skin.

Thorne moved to my ankles. He spread my legs wide, knees bent and thighs splayed. He strapped them down without hurry, exposing me completely. Open. Helpless. The position forced my hips to tilt upward, presenting everything.

I thrashed once more. The bench did not budge. The straps held fast.

Aurelius leaned over me, golden hair falling forward to brush my chest. “Look at you. All spread out. Leaking. Ready.”

“I’m not ready for anything,” I spat, voice shaking.

Thorne stepped between my spread thighs. He palmed himself through the tight leather of his pants. The thick outline strained against the material; the glint of metal piercings showed even in the flickering firelight.

“You will be,” he said simply.

Cassian moved to my head. He knelt beside the bench. One large hand settled on my throat, not squeezing, just resting there. Claiming. His amber eyes never left mine, steady and unblinking.

Thorne unbuckled his belt. The metallic clink echoed in the quiet room. Leather slid free. He shoved his pants down just enough.

His c**k sprang free. Thick. Heavy. Veined. A thick silver ring pierced the flushed head; smaller bars ran in a ladder along the underside of the shaft. Designed to drag. To catch. To make every thrust impossible to ignore.

My hole clenched hard. More slick leaked out, pooling beneath me on the leather. Traitor body.

Thorne stroked himself once, slow and deliberate. “First taste is mine.”

He lined up. The pierced head nudged my entrance. Cold metal pressed against hot, slick flesh.

I sucked in a sharp breath.

He pushed.

The head breached me. The ring caught on my rim, forcing a sharp stretch. Burn. I gasped, back arching off the bench.

He sank deeper, inch by torturous inch. The bars dragged along my inner walls, every ridge and bump igniting nerves I didn’t know I had. Fire. Pressure. Too much.

Tears pricked the corners of my eyes.

“f**k,” Aurelius breathed, voice rough. “Look at him take it.”

Cassian’s hand tightened fractionally on my throat, feeling the frantic race of my pulse.

Thorne bottomed out. His hips pressed flush against mine. His knot already swelled at the base, thick and insistent, teasing without locking.

He leaned down until his breath scorched my ear.

“Welcome home, little omega.”

Then he started to move.