The Triumvirate Prophecy: The Three Mates

Chapter 3: Second Mate? PT 3

Alexis's POV:

Pleasure surges through me as his fingers slide inside, deliberate and unrelenting. His tongue flicks with a rhythm that’s almost maddening, driving me closer to the edge. My head falls back, and a loud, needy moans escapes me. My hands tangle in Connor’s damp hair, my grip tightening as I pull him closer, silently begging for more.

He knows exactly what he’s doing—he knows how close I am. I can see it in the way his movements grow even more confident, his tongue pressing harder, faster. I fight against the rising tide, desperate to hold off, but it’s a losing battle. When his fingers hit that sweet spot deep inside me, a blinding heat crashes through my body. My muscles clench as I come undone, my cries echoing off the walls of the shower.

Connor doesn’t stop immediately. He slows his movements, drawing out every last shiver until I’m left panting, my legs trembling. When he pulls back, his lips curl into that cocky, mischievous smirk that drives me wild and makes me want to wipe it off his face.

“You’re too smug for your own good,” I tease breathlessly, grabbing a handful of his hair and pulling his head back sharply.

A low growl rumbles from his throat, vibrating through my fingers, and my stomach flips with anticipation. I lean down, crashing my lips against his. The kiss is fierce and hungry, fueled by lingering pleasure and raw desire. I savor the taste of him—and of myself on his lips. There’s something primal about reclaiming him after he’s unraveled me, something that makes my wolf, Alice, purr with satisfaction.

Connor smirks against my mouth, and it lights a fire inside me. As punishment for his cockiness, I bite down on his lower lip, harder than I mean to. He flinches slightly, and I immediately soothe the sting with my tongue, tasting the faint, metallic tang of blood.

“Careful,” he murmurs, his voice deep and husky.

Before I can respond, his hands are on me, turning me around in one swift motion. My palms brace against the cool tile wall as he bends me over, his body pressing firmly against mine. I gasp when I feel him enter me from behind, his girth stretching me perfectly. No matter how many times we’ve done this, the sensation always surprises me—makes me lose control.

Connor’s hands thread through my hair, pulling gently at first, then harder, arching my back deeper and pushing my hips into him. The change in angle sends jolts of pleasure through me, his thrusts hitting that perfect spot with every stroke. My fingers curl against the tiles, my body trembling as I moan his name.

“Connor—don’t stop. Harder,” I manage to cry out, my voice breaking on the words.

He grunts in response, his breathing ragged and heavy. “Babe, I’m so close.”

His thrusts become faster, more erratic, and I feel the familiar tension building deep inside me. It’s overwhelming, consuming, and I can’t hold on any longer. My body clenches around him as I tumble over the edge for the second time, a broken scream escaping me.

Connor follows, groaning my name as he buries himself deep, his body shaking as he spills inside me.

For a moment, the only sounds are our labored breaths and the steady patter of water hitting the tile. Connor turns me gently, his hands smoothing over my trembling thighs as he leans in to kiss me. It’s softer this time, slower—a kiss that feels like a promise. “I love you,” he murmurs against my lips.

“I love you too,” I whisper back, my chest swelling with warmth.

We finish washing up, though Connor doesn’t bother lingering. By the time I step out of the bathroom, he’s already sprawled out on the bed, his hair still damp and sticking up in every direction. He smacks the mattress with his hand, a lazy smile on his lips. “Come here, babe. I need you. That helped, but I still feel off.”

Concern creeps into my voice. “Are you okay?”

He sighs, stretching. “I’m fine. Just antsy. I probably just need sleep.”

I climb into bed, letting him pull me close as his arm wraps securely around my waist. His lips brush against my cheek, and he whispers, “I love you,” before settling in.

“I love you too, Connor,” I murmur, my eyes fluttering shut. His steady breathing lulls me to sleep.

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A low, tortured howl jolts me awake.

I sit up instantly, my heart pounding against my ribs. The bed next to me is cold—Connor is gone. I strain my mind, trying to reach him through our connection, but he has a mental block. A strong one.

Panic floods me as I leap from the bed and pull on leggings, a sports bra, and a tank. My wolf, Alice, stirs uneasily. “Something’s wrong.”

I fly down the stairs and nearly collide with Derik, Andrew, and Bryce in the hallway. The three of them are drenched in sweat, their faces pale and breathless.

“What happened? Where’s Connor?” My voice is sharp, panic barely contained.

Derik looks like he’s struggling to breathe, so Andrew speaks. “Connor was feeling restless. He went for a run and ran into some rogues on the property. There was an attack—a human. Connor’s fine, but he’s bringing her to the pack hospital. He asked us to wake the pack doctor, the cooks, the elders, and his father. Hudson is already alerting the pack warriors about the attack.”

"The Elders?" I repeat, stunned. My blood runs cold. “What’s going on?

“I don’t know,” Andrew mutters. “But it’s serious.”

Derik casts me a pained look but quickly slips out the door, presumably heading for the hospital. Andrew moves to the conference room to prepare it for the Elders and Theodore, while Bryce takes off through the back, heading toward Riley’s quarters—our head omega.

Alice paces in the back of my mind, unease rolling off her in waves. “If Connor’s fine, then why did he sound like he was in pain?”

I shake my head, brushing the question aside, though it lingers uncomfortably. In an attempt to distract myself, I head to the kitchen to help with breakfast preparations—bacon sizzling in the pan, fluffy stacks of pancakes rising, and eggs scrambling. Dawn creeps steadily across the horizon, but my thoughts remain restless, replaying Connor’s agonized howl and the eerie silence of our blocked mind-link.

Unable to wait any longer, I head outside for air, leaning against the cool stone of the pack house wall. I close my eyes, trying one last time to reach Connor.

I finally manage to reach Connor, but our conversation only heightens my anxiety instead of calming me. Sitting idly isn’t an option—I need to act. I make my way to the pack hospital, hoping to find a way to help. After speaking with the pack doctor, it becomes clear there’s nothing I can do. Left with no other choice, I decide to wait by the front door for Connor’s arrival.

Then it hits me.

A scent. Sweet, intoxicating, and unlike anything I’ve ever smelled before. My body freezes as the smell overwhelms my senses, tugging at something primal inside me. Alice pushes to the front of my mind, growling in recognition.

My eyes snap open, locking onto Connor in the distance. He’s walking toward me, his expression guarded—but something feels different.

Before I can stop myself, the word leaves my lips. “MATE.”

The world spins as the realization sinks in. My wolf howls with excitement, but my stomach drops.

How can this be? How can I have another mate?

And who is it?