Tyra’s POV
They were back. I knew it before I was fully under.
Their heat settled around me, wrapping me like a warm blanket, and my body recognized it instantly without asking permission.
The one behind me had his mouth at the back of my neck, lips dragging slowly, and I arched into it on instinct, my fingers twisting into the sheets beneath me.
The one in front had his warm hand spread flat across my stomach, sliding lower with unhurried deliberateness that made my breath come out in pieces.
“There she is,” the one in front murmured, his voice low and rough, and something about its cadence made my stomach clench in a way that had nothing to do with fear.
Just as I reached for his face, the silver light flared again.
But this time, it stayed suspended for one single second before it swallowed everything.
For that brief second, I caught a glimpse of the men who had been haunting my dreams for the longest time.
Then everything was gone, and I was left grabbing at empty air with the cold of the room rushing in from all sides.
I sat up from my bed so fast the room spun.
I pressed both hands over my mouth and sat there in the dark, breathing hard through my fingers.
“No,” I whispered, my heart slamming against my ribs like it was trying to get out. “No, no, no.”
I had not seen what I thought I saw.
It had to be my brain playing tricks. It had to be the stress and shock from yesterday.
My subconscious taking the worst possible material available and running with it like the traitor it was.
That was all this was.
I pressed my thighs together as my core throbbed with an ache that had no interest in my rationalizations and stared at the gauzy curtains turning silver with early morning light.
“It’s madness,” I whispered vehemently, squeezing the sheets. “This place was beginning to get to me. I did not just have an explicit dream about my stepbrothers.”
But even as I said that, my c**t throbbed, and the now uncomfortable wetness of my p***y disagreed with my perp talk. Loudly.
Unconsciously, my hands started inching towards the middle of my thighs. If I could just get myself…
I abruptly threw the covers off and stood up before I could make any decisions I would regret.
The room felt smaller than it had the night before.
The low hum under my skin that had been there since I crossed the pack border yesterday had not quieted even in sleep.
I felt like I had been turned inside out and put back together slightly wrong.
Like I had a hangover.
It made no sense. I had not touched alcohol in a month, nor was I feeling sick before I fell asleep.
‘Stress,’ I told myself again. ‘That was all.’
I was standing at the window with my forehead pressed against the cool glass when the soft knock came.
I groaned because even that small sound landed in my skull like a hammer.
“Come in,” I managed.
My mother came inside, holding two cups of tea.
Her expression was the carefully composed one she usually wore when she was worried and trying not to show it.
She set one cup on the nightstand near my bed and sat gracefully on my bed.
“Are they still alive?” I asked, my voice hoarse and dry.
“Barely,” she replied, giving me a small smile. “Your father…”
Her words faded as I shot her a glare.
“Sorry, I meant Lucius.” She apologized quickly. “Lucius dragged them out to the training field before sunrise. Said they needed to burn off the tension between them before they had to welcome the visiting dignitaries arriving today.”
“That is wonderful,” I muttered dryly as I returned to my bed and sat beside her. “They get to run it off while my entire life is falling apart.”
Anya’s gaze softened, carefully watching me take a sip of tea. “It is not falling apart, sweetheart. It is just... changing.”
“I do not want it to change,” I snapped, the heat of the tea doing nothing to melt the cold knot in my stomach. “I came home for a mandatory family ceremony, not some primitive mate bond. And certainly not with them.”
We sat in silence for a moment, watching the steam curl between us.
Then Anya let out a tired sigh. “You have to keep your heart open, sweetheart. The goddess rarely asks for our permission.”
“I’m a scientist,” I snapped, anger and frustration bubbling in me. “I don’t deal in goddesses and fate. I deal in data and choices I actually make for myself.”
I winced as the spike in my temper made my headache worse.
"Besides, they are my stepbrothers, Mom," I said, forcing myself to calm down. “Do you have any idea how people in this pack and the council will react? I so do not need that type of sordid drama in my life."
My mother went quiet for a second.
“Maybe he had a point after all,” she murmured after a while, almost to herself.
I looked at her. “What? Who had a point?”
"Nothing," she quickly replied, shaking her head to clear her thoughts. "I was just talking to myself."
I listened to the morning sounds filtering from outside my window. Pack members moving about, some guards having their training rounds, and the sounds of howls in the distance.
I looked at her, vulnerability slipping through my defenses. “Did you know? About them and me?”
Anya hesitated a beat too long. “Not for certain.” She replied, her gaze dropping to the floor. “But I always suspected something strange was happening between you three.”
I let out a dry, cynical laugh. “Of course you did. Everyone seems to understand my life better than I do.”
I jolted as she suddenly grabbed my wrist.
“Listen to me.” She said in an urgent tone. “Fate does not make mistakes, but it does test our courage. What happened last night was not a curse. It was the truth finally showing its face.”
“Truth?” My throat tightened, tears of frustration stinging my eyes. “Alaric looked at me like I was a shameful mistake he would rather bury in the woods, and Osric was reacting entirely according to his wolf's instincts, not his true feelings.”
Her fingers tightened around my wrist. “Alaric is more frightened than you are, Tyra. Remember that terrible incident you had when you were younger? Right before you begged me to send you away?”
"What incident?"